


He's Gonna Chalk You Out

by This_Mortal_Coil



Series: Sunburst & Snowblind [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Action, Blood, Child Abuse, Demon, F/M, Light Romance, Male OC - Freeform, Mental Torture, Past Abuse, Past Suicide Attempts, Physical Torture, Probably some violence idk, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, but he's not the main focus, dark themes, demon OC, eventual bruce banner/original female character, female oc - Freeform, follows the mcu, it's a loki/oc fic, like really slow burn, more tags to come, multiple OCs - Freeform, seriously it's a major slow-burn you guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-18 15:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14216229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Mortal_Coil/pseuds/This_Mortal_Coil
Summary: When Directory Fury cajoles Riley Harrow into joining the Avengers, she's reasonably reluctant. With a past she's spent years burying, and a sadistic demon trapped in her head, she isn't too terribly keen on opening more doors. Her caution is not without basis, and as she delves deeper into her Asgardian heritage, and worlds of mutants and monsters, she finds herself biting off more than she can chew.In this first installment of Sunburst & Snowblind, Agent Riley Harrow will join the Avengers in defending the Earth, only to inadvertently dig herself deeper into the MCU world and the ensuing chaos.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey, guys. Sooo, this is basically a completely re-done version of Psychique Femme. It will have aspects that remain the same, but if you’re expecting a slightly altered version of that fic, prepare to be disappointed. Some of the basic premise will remain the same, but Riley, her powers and backstory, and the arc with Asgard is all going to change and follow the MCU more closely. That said, please don’t let that deter you from reading, as I’m really excited with the new stuff, and hoping my ideas will be well-received by you guys!
> 
> If you haven't read Psychique Femme, then good! We'll be starting off fresh.
> 
> These first few chapters will not be too terribly different from the original, but they still need to be read, since Riley’s background has changed.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> A Note: For the sake of this story, there’s a character who comes from Mythology. I know that with JK Rowling’s editing of history, this could serve to be a touchy/hot subject for some, so I’d like to make it clear that nothing about any myths are changed for the sake of this fic. He’s simply added in, particularly in Norse Myth, so let me know if this causes any offense to anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything Marvel-related, or any other fandoms referenced. I only own my OCs.

 

"Sounds like you already have your hands full. Why do you need me?"

"We need as much help as possible."

"They can’t know who I am.”

"I know."

"I'm surprised you didn't send one of your agents."

"I figured this case might need to be handled delicately."

Riley snuck a short glance up from her computer screen to scan over Nick Fury's face. Tall and well-built, the black man’s eyes (or eye, rather, as the other one was masked beneath a patch) had a severity in them that could put a hawk to shame, sharp and ever-analyzing. He donned an inky jacket that had to have been making him sweat in the humidity; Riley had already offered once for him to take it off, but he ignored her bid.

"And yet I doubt you're here alone," said Riley as her eyes returned to her work, making it appear as though she were busy, but in actuality, she hadn't written a single sentence on the word document.

"Would my answer do anything to steer you toward a 'yes' or 'no' answer to my proposition?"

"Probably not."

"Then that's none of your concern."

Riley leaned back in her office chair and folded her hands across her chest, all of her attention now focused on him, her lips pursed. "I'm not a superhero, Fury. And you know it.”

"I don't need a hero. And we made an agreement. I’ve upheld my end of the bargain. You need to take up yours.”

“I have.” The brunette stood abruptly, her movement causing the rolling chair to skid across the wooden floors and back against the wall. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me up until this point. But this? Come on, Fury. You know what I’m capable of.”

 _“I’m not asking, Harrow.”_ Nick Fury did indeed know what she was capable of, and the fact that he stood his ground in front of her spoke volumes of his character.

 _He’s not asking, Harrow_ , that voice parroted mockingly in her head, the sneer present even with his face absent.

Riley’s dark eyes darted to the side only briefly, acknowledging him with no more than a light squint.

_Valek._

 Valek The Demon. Valek The Demon of Demons. Valek The Destroyer of Worlds, The Dark God, etc. etc.

For those few and far between who had not heard of him, Valek was, to Midgard, little more than another myth. Across all mythology, he was present, under different names, aliases, and stories. But the truth of the matter was, Valek The [Insert preferred title here] was a _beast_.

Riley knew the truth, of course; he came from the dawn of time, when only dark and light reigned, having not yet merged into grey. Valek spawned from the darkness as one of the first ever sentient beings to stalk the universe, hunger and murder taking the reins of his putrid mind. He sought only to kill, to torture, to maim. His power could bring entire civilizations to their knees, could _crush_ planets into _dust_ with little to no effort.

And he did the latter, at first—but the immediate crumple of a planet in his hands brought him less and less satisfaction. He came to enjoy _playing_ with his toys before sending them on their way, relishing in the screams and pleas of those lesser than him. He took and he destroyed what he desired, and none could stop him.

That is, until his Achilles’ heel, so to speak, emerged.

Valek’s essence could be contained in a sentient being. Through a magic-induced process (an incantation, if you will), Valek’s soul could be captured within a living being. Only certain creatures could hold such immense power, however—not those of physical strength, or even strength of the mind, but of the _heart_.

And so, throughout the years, Valek had many, _many_ masters. One being after another took hold of his spirit, but even then, few could handle him. He tortured his hosts constantly, unrelenting in pain and torment, until one by one, all gave in to his will.

Valek could die, but only if his master died with him tied to them, and he took all manner of precautions to prevent this from happening. Each host fought the good fight, but every single one would eventually relent, and allow Valek to use their body as a vessel, until it grew too weak to hold him. Then, his devastation would continue, until such time as someone captured him again.

Riley Harrow was the final host. Of her parents, she knew little—Valek refused to tell her much, but from bits and pieces, she found out that her mother was of Earth, and her father had hailed from a place called Asgard. Her parents had attempted to seal Valek in her mother, before realizing she was pregnant, which thereby transferred Valek’s soul into Riley’s.

From there, her history was in pieces. How had her parents died? Had someone killed them? She’d ended up in a foster care place after their deaths, but none could tell her what had occurred. As for the rest of her past…well, this bit of information is presently unimportant.

What _is_ important is that Riley, now in her early 30’s, holds the title as the sentient being with the longest duration of time hosting Valek’s soul. And he is _not_ happy about it.

“Harrow,” Fury’s voice cut into Riley’s thoughts, luring her back into the present reality. She blinked owlishly back at him.

 _He’s not asking,_ Valek repeated again, coming to stand in front of her. A mind-based image of him followed her everywhere, only seen through her eyes. He mostly wore his hair black and eyes hazel, his skin pallid and face chiseled like a Greek god (and he _was_ a god, wasn’t he? Sort of?), his build muscular and tall. He changed it up a bit sometimes, but predominantly remained male.

Ignoring him, Riley sighed, reaching for her desk chair and wheeling it back into place before re-seating herself. “I know, I’m legally obligated to this or whatever. But let me get this straight…This ‘Tesseract’ has fallen into wrong hands, and you want me to help get it back.”

"Yes. But the other thing is…" Fury began to pace about the room, but his one good eye was still on her, piercing her. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he was looking straight into her mind. "The guy we're dealing with is from another planet."

Riley arched a brow at him.

"Asgard.”

“Oh.” Riley linked her fingers together on the desk, then separated them, seeming unable to figure out where to put them. “Okay. And?”

"The man's name is Loki. Ring any bells?”

"Loki?" Riley racked her brain to remember. She'd never actually been to the planet Asgard before, but she knew of it. Valek hadn’t bothered with Asgardians up until now, so while she had his memories tied to hers, she knew very little about it. Even so, she had done some reading up on mythology before (Norse included), so the name _did_ ring a bell. “Oh, God of Mischief, yeah? Thor’s brother.” She recalled hearing about Thor’s escapades a while back, when he was briefly in New Mexico. “Didn't Thor go back home when the whole situation was resolved?”

"Yes, but that's not important."

"Then what is?"

"Loki is the one I was talking about before, the man with the Tesseract. I’m definitely bringing you on board with the Avengers Initiative, but…” He trailed off, coming to stop near her apartment window, hand running along the sill.

“But?” Riley prompted.

"But I'm afraid you might just start a family dispute," Fury finished.

Riley stared at him, dumbfounded. “They’re not…related to me. I don’t think, anyway.” She glanced at Valek, and he nodded his assent. How nice of him to actually acknowledge her question. “No, they’re not. So how would recruiting me start some 'family dispute'?"

"All right, not family. But am I wrong to assume that you might become…curious?"

Riley removed her hands from the desk and they traveled up to rest as a bridge under her chin. "I don't think the first thing I'll do when I meet him is ask if he knows anything about my family tree, sir."

"Good." Fury had finally stopped pacing. "And if you need any more _motivation,_ I’d just like to add that…Howarth’s been compromised.”

Riley jumped up again, accidentally biting her tongue. Blood pooled in her mouth, but she hardly noticed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Fury leaned forward, the palms of his hands pressing on the desk as he drew his face close to hers. “So. Are you in?”

Riley hesitated. She couldn’t exactly say no—Fury would make her help either way, per their agreement. But what if curiosity _did_ get the better of her? Valek was about as much help as a dung beetle, and she’d give her left foot to know more about her parents, but if Loki wanted something other than her foot in exchange for that information, then she’d refuse.

She sighed again through her nose. "God of _Mischief_ , right?"

"That's him," Fury confirmed.

A grin worked its way across her lips. "Well then, in that case, we _might just_ get along. I'm in."

…

In all her time at SHIELD, Riley could not remember a time when she'd ever been on a ship so large.

She didn't like it.

Tons of people were scurrying around like ants, talking into earpieces and carrying folders and documents here and there. The entire thing appeared to be made of some kind of metal, with an abundance of fighter jets landing on it. The whole area made Riley queasy…She disliked the idea of being cramped in anywhere, even on such a large ship, in the middle of a vast ocean.

Riley was used to working alone. In the past couple of years, she did basically agent work at SHIELD, eventually coming to be known by New Yorkers as “The Brown Recluse,” based on the dark brown attire she dressed in for “superhero” work. She did writing on the side, but her agent job provided enough money for her to live comfortably.

Her agreement with Fury essentially had her working with SHIELD, doing whatever vigilante-justice-bullshit Fury chose for her, in exchange for…privacy. _Major_ privacy. In fact, few people at the agency knew her real name, and even then, even fewer had seen her face. She wore brown and off-white layers and a belt, with a hood, mask for her mouth, and goggles over her eyes.

Silly as it sounded on the surface, it shielded her identity well, and she used Valek’s voice to cover her own, so most assumed she was a male. In SHIELD’s records, even if one were to dig and dig and dig, they would only ever find the name “Riley Harrow,” her alias, and a picture of her in her suit. For her to agree to Fury’s terms, his part of the bargain had to be _serious_. It killed the man to do it, especially since he required personal information from all the other agents, but he’d eventually given in.

After all, she was a valuable asset to his agency. With powers that constantly “updated” and strength seen on no normal human, she contributed a lot to Fury’s work. However, nothing comes without a price, and Riley had paid it enough times to know when to be careful.

When her emotions spiked, Riley’s control over Valek slackened. Over time, she had managed to develop a level of resistance to his power, but if she used too much of it, or let her emotional stability waver, he’d have a chance to take over. And he _had_ before. The times that she lost control were the worst memories to taint Riley’s mind, and in order to never let them happen again, she could only use limited amounts of his power, and had to take great caution with her emotions.

"Ah! Miss Harrow," said a recognizable voice, snapping Riley once again back into the real world; she looked over her shoulder to see Coulson approaching, and the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach dissolved. Finally, a familiar face.

“Shh! SHH!” Riley rushed forward, hands up as she herded him away from the people nearest them. “What, are you crazy? Someone could have heard you!” In spite of herself, she was smiling. Agent Phil Coulson was one of the only other people apart from Fury who knew her real identity. She had worked with him before, and trusted him more than anyone else. He had an honest, endearing demeanor and a charming personality, and her tension never lingered long when he was around.

Coulson was also one of few people to really make a serious effort to befriend her, and make her feel at home around the agency. Sure, Fury could be amicable enough, but she would by no means call him warm and fuzzy. Phil, on the other hand, could get her to relax in his presence, and was always available as a friendly ear to talk to.

“Sorry, old habits.” Coulson offered a hand, but she ignored it in favor of a firm hug. “Oof! Okay, we’re hugging now, that’s…all right.”

Riley released him, her lopsided grin unseen beneath her mask. Making sure to use Valek’s voice, she continued, “How have you been, Phil? It’s been a while.”

“Good, good…Been busy, as always. I’ve got some people over here I’d like you to meet,” he added, ever the businessman, re-directing her toward a group of three individuals, all of whom were already engaged in conversation.

“Everyone, this is Agent Harrow. Come introduce yourselves.”

Riley made to correct him, but decided against it. If she was going to be working with this people as a team, the least she could do was give them her real name.

“Riley Harrow,” greeted the man on the left, and the first thing Riley noticed about him was how… _jacked_ he was. He looked as though he had stripped the American flag off its pole and made an outfit out of it, and Riley mused that he could use a bald eagle for a companion. With a handsome, model-esque face, blond hair, and bright cerulean eyes, he was _definitely_ not going to be easy to talk to. Riley had never been good with conversation to begin with, but the sheer _beauty_ of this man was enough to leave her nearly speechless.

"Steve, uh, Rogers. Er—Captain, I mean," said Riley, nodding at him as he shook her hand. She noted that his grip was very firm and his hands were rough, calloused. “Good to meet you. Nice to, um, see you out of the ice and stuff. Must’ve been cold.”

To her dismay, Steve seemed highly amused with her spluttering. At least he couldn’t see her face, which was no doubt flaming red by now. Given her male voice, he probably assumed she was a star-struck gay guy. “Nice to meet you too. It, uh…it was cold, yeah,” he added with an awkward chuckle.

Riley turned to the next Avenger, and immediately assumed she was in the presence of a goddess. The woman had flaming red hair, striking blue eyes, and full lips. Her black, skin-tight agent uniform outlined every detail and curve of her perfect figure. Riley had purposely avoided wearing the SHIELD uniform, too afraid to see how her own chubby and large-breasted physique would look, all stuffed like dough into a catsuit.

 _That would be a fucking riot_ , Valek commented helpfully. Riley grit her teeth.

"Harrow," the woman acknowledged politely.

"Hey, Agent.” Riley swallowed, trying to not immediately loathe this woman for her beauty. "Natasha Romanoff, right?" Otherwise known as the Black Widow. “I’ve seen you around before. Never had the chance to meet officially.”

The third man Riley recognized as Dr. Banner. He had brown hair and eyes to match, and he looked as though he could desperately use a good night's sleep. Ironically, he seemed to have just rolled out of bed, with his clothing rumpled and curly hair disheveled.

"Hi," said Riley, smiling more than she should be, in spite of herself. Secretly, she had wanted to meet the infamous "Hulk" more than anyone else. She related to his plight, with the whole emotions-dictating-power thing, and how they both probably needed to go to some kind of anger management therapy. With great power, comes great responsibility indeed.

"Dr. Bruce Banner," he answered, reaching out to take her hand. She hesitated before taking it, but to her surprise, his grip was not as tight as she had anticipated. _Apparently it's only when he's the green guy,_ she thought. "It's Harrow, right?" he added, returning her smile. "It's a pleasure to—"

"Everyone, you may wanna step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breathe," said Natasha suddenly, breaking into their conversation; she was glancing over the edge of the ship.

Suddenly, the Helicarrier started shaking violently from below, as though an earthquake were erupting beneath their feet. Riley peered over the side of it curiously to see the turbines spinning more and more rapidly, the machinery groaning as it did so.

"Is this is a submarine?" said Steve.

"Really? They want me in a submerged pressurized metal container?" said Dr. Banner.

"I hear you there," Riley chimed in, sincerely hoping that Steve was wrong.

Together, they edged closer to the edge of the Helicarrier and watched, in awe, as it started to lift into the air.

"Oh, no. This is much worse," said Dr. Banner, smiling slightly.

"We're going to…fly?" Riley gasped, her jaw dropping to the floor. She had to admit, being up in the air was at least better than being cramped underneath the surface of the water, where she could drown any second. But then, there was also the idea of falling…

 _Such a Nervous Nelly,_ Valek chuckled, circling the edge of the ship. _Although, you are pretty clumsy, aren’t you? Could fall right off the edge of the ship. Or, it could break down. This thing doesn’t seem all that stable to me. Might fall right out of the—_

 _SHUT UP,_ Riley shot back, shaking her head as she and the others were escorted inside. Thankfully, if nothing else, she had learned to tune Valek out for the most part. If she pushed her brain hard enough, she could entirely shove him into the back of her mind, at least for a time. His control was worse when she was younger, when her mental strength was not enough to keep his torments at bay. Now, his torture only came at night. In sleep, she had no means of keeping him chained up, which gave him the perfect opportunity to attack.

The interior of the ship was as massive as the exterior, and equally impressive. Riley found herself gawking at the scenery unraveling before her, her eyes darting here and there over the complex technology and intricate designs.

"Let's disappear," said Fury.

But what occurred next stole the entire show. Some sort of device surrounded the entire vessel, vanishing them from sight. Completely. Invisible.

"Okay, that was cool," Riley admitted.

"Gentlemen," said Fury.

Without looking at Fury, Steve reached into his pocket and handed him a ten dollar bill.

Fury said nothing, only smirking a little. He turned to Dr. Banner. "Doctor, thank you for coming."

"Thanks for asking nicely," Dr. Banner acknowledged. "So, uh...how long am I staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the clear."

"Where are you with that?"

Fury pointed to Coulson.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cell phones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us," said Coulson.

"That'll take forever," Riley pointed out.

"He’s right. That's still not gonna find them in time," Natasha contributed.

"You have to narrow the field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?" said Dr. Banner.

"How many are there?" asked Fury.

"Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?" Dr. Banner added.

"Agent Romanoff, would you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory, please?"

Natasha nodded. "You're gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys."

Once the pair of them had exited the room, Fury turned his attention to Riley.

"I see you’re staying undercover,” he assessed, his good eye roaming over her attire.

“We agreed I’d join the team, but that was the extent of it.” She glanced around, watching the other agents busying themselves in front of computer screens. "Anyway, so what are we doing now? Trying to locate where Loki is?"

"Precisely. We're using satellite facial recognition."

Riley nodded, but inside she questioned whether it would actually work. She had a feeling Loki wasn't exactly going to be casually wandering around in the open.

"I mean, if it's not too much trouble," said Coulson's voice. Riley turned her head a degree to look at him. He was engaged in a deep conversation with the Captain, who seemed far less interested in it than Coulson.

"No, no. It's fine."

"It's a vintage set. It took me a couple of years to collect them all."

Riley stifled a snicker. Such a fanboy.

"Near mint," Coulson continued, "slight boxing around the edges, but..."

"We got a hit," one of the agents interrupted. "Sixty seven percent match. Weight, cross match, seventy nine percent."

Oh. If they had already found Loki, then he clearly didn't care if he was found. Or…maybe he _wanted_ to be found. The thought made her insides twist.

"Location?" said Coulson.

"Stuttgart, Germany. 28, Konigstrasse. He's not exactly hiding."

"Captain, you're up," said Fury.

The Captain simply nodded to him and went after Agent Romanoff, presumably to the plane. They were already going in for the action? Riley turned to Fury, prepared to protest, but he was way ahead of her.

“They’ll be enough to go catch the bastard. You can wait with Dr. Banner for the time being. But don’t think you’re getting off that easy,” he added, as though he could see the delight in her hidden eyes, “you’re still going to be needed sooner or later.”

“Good enough for me.” Riley wasn’t exactly…trigger-happy, for lack of a better term. Her powers were too much of a risk, and she had learned the hard way by using them flippantly before. Most of her missions with SHIELD were easy enough, and required little effort on her part. But if Fury had bothered to recruit an entire team of super-powered weirdos, then she had a feeling this mission was something serious.

She met up with Dr. Banner in the lab, where he paced about the equipment like a trapped mouse, nervous and on-edge. Riley collapsed in the nearest chair with her legs splayed out, arms across her chest.

Seeing her presence, he came to a halt, eyebrows raised questioningly. “How come you’re not going with them?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

The doctor’s smirk was devoid of humor. “I’m not here, for uh… _that_. I’m just here to help find the Tesseract.”

“Really?” That was surprising. The Hulk would be a great addition to their team, so why wasn’t Fury putting him to use?

 _Probably for the same reason as you, babe,_ Valek remarked, now wandering around Dr. Banner, eyeing him in the manner of a predator stalking its prey. _No self-control…But I’m betting Fury has a fail-safe for this guy. Maybe even one for you._

Huh. Riley hadn’t considered that. Fury relied on her for assistance, but she wasn’t so sure he trusted her. Not that she could blame him, seeing as she hardly trusted herself, but the thought that he’d have something here to… _stop_ her if she went too far? That didn’t sit well in her stomach.

“I read your file. It was pretty skimpy.” Dr. Banner opened a cabinet, only to close it again. He seemed restless.

“Oh yeah?” Riley regarded him with interest, slinging her legs around as she turned to face him. “What did it say?”

“Uh, it had your name and said you were half-Asgardian. There was some footage attached of you in action, but that was about it.”

“Mm.” So Fury had mentioned her heritage in her Avengers file? She wasn’t altogether surprised by that, given the context of the current mission, but she was pleased to hear how limited her file was. “Yeah, I keep a pretty low profile.”

“No kidding. Wish my file was like that.” Dr. Banner pulled up a chair beside her, wringing his hands together in his lap. “Where are you from?”

“London.” At least, that’s where she was born, anyway.

“Huh. Really? You don’t have an accent.”

Riley was about to correct him when she remembered she was using Valek’s voice. “Oh, uh—yeah, I, um, lost it. Didn't live there very long, so...never took, I guess.”

He appeared to buy into her lie, and glanced away, seeming lost in himself. His behavior reminded her a lot of herself, what with the nervous shifting and twitching, and the appearance of being stuck in his own mind. She almost wanted to tell him everything, and take comfort in their mutual experiences, but it was too dangerous. People could know her name, her gender, even her Asgardian heritage. But Valek? Nick Fury was the _only_ living person to know about her connecting with Valek. If anyone else found out…Well, she didn’t even want to consider it.

“So, how much do you know?” Riley ventured, drawing Bruce’s attention back to her. “Have you heard anything about the agents that were mind-controlled?”

Dr. Banner shook his dark curls. “Nope. Not anything new, anyway.”

Riley’s heart sank to the pit of her chest. No word on Quinn Howarth, then. She had a history with Agent Howarth that she didn’t intend to think about (and had done everything in her power to bury), but circumstances were going to bring them back together, and she’d have to face them sooner or later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a shorter chapter, but still a chapter ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯   
> We get some Loki in this portion, so there's that.  
> Enjoy, and don't be shy about leaving a review!

The next hour passed in relative silence, with Riley and Bruce slowly beginning to open up, little by little letting tiny flecks of cement fall from their walls, until a sudden commotion drew their attention to the windows.

A group of agents equipped with machine guns passed, flanking a man in the center. He towered inhumanly over the others, and wore green and black fabric that gave him the appearance of someone who just left a Renaissance Fair. Dark hair fell over wan skin, slicked back from his forehead and spiked at the tips. The whole getup gave cause for stares, but what really kept Riley’s attention were his emerald eyes. No, not just the color of emeralds—more like he had used two _real_ emeralds and had fashioned them into a pair of eyes. They bore into Riley, inducing a shiver to run up her spine as a smile worked its way across his thin lips. He was no doubt handsome (actually, handsome didn’t even begin to cover it), but his cocky, self-assured smirk only served to aggravate her.

Despite her many layers of clothing, she found herself feeling rather naked under his gaze. But it only passed over her briefly, and the almost _knowing_ smirk was clearly meant for Bruce. The moment he crossed out of view, Riley turned to Bruce, demanding, “What the hell was that look for?”

Bruce had gone pale, but he merely shook his head, still staring at the now-empty glass window. “I-I don’t know. He was looking at _me,_ right? Not you?”

Riley nodded. She immediately headed for the door, in hot pursuit of the corridor the guards had stomped through just moments before, with Bruce on her heels. It took her a bit of time and a couple of wrong turns to figure it out, but she eventually reached one of the surveillance rooms, where the other “Avengers” had gathered in front of a screen.

Not bothering to acknowledge the others, she strode right up to the monitor to watch.

"It's an impressive cage...Not built, I think, for me," the man announced to Fury, spreading his arms wide. He was locked in a bulky, circular glass prison, and without it needing to be said, Riley immediately knew who it was intended for. She swallowed hard.

"Built for something a lot stronger than you."

"Oh, I've heard."

The man gazed up at the camera that they were watching the interrogation through, and it was as though he was looking directly at them. Riley’s blood ran cold.

“That’s Loki, isn’t it?” Riley asked no one in particular. To her right, Natasha nodded silently.

"The mindless beast, makes play to be the man," said Loki. He paused, his frigid gaze flickering in the camera's direction again. "How  _desperate_  are you? You call on these lost creatures to defend you."

Lost creatures.  _Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before,_ Riley thought.

"How desperate am I?" said Fury, who was pacing slightly outside of the glass, watching Loki with a sharp look. "You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace and you kill cause it's fun. You have made me  _very_  desperate. You might not be glad that you did."

A smug grin broke out on Loki’s face, almost wolfish in the way his teeth bared. "Ooh. It  _burns_  you to come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power... _unlimited_  power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded what  _real_  power is."

A lingering, eerie silence followed. Then Fury smirked. "Yeah, well, you let me know if 'Real Power' wants a magazine or something."

And with that, Fury turned and walked away, his overlong jacket billowing behind him like a cape.

“Who’s this?”

Riley peered over her shoulder at the sound of the rumbling voice, only to have her breath catch in her throat. And she thought _Steve_ was hot. A blonde mass of muscle stood at the far corner of the room, ocean eyes scanning over Riley with mild curiosity. Every inch of him was as flawless as it was intimidating. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck.

“I’m Hiley Rarrow. Oop, wait—” Riley shook her head, more than a little thankful that none could see the rose blooming in her cheeks. “Sorry, Riley Harrow, I mean. Um. And, who you? I-I mean, who _are_ you?”

 _Try not to drool on the carpet,_ Valek advised.

“I am Thor, of Asgard.” Thor regarded the others now, seeming satisfied with her answer. “Loki has an army called the Chitauri, that none of Asgard nor any world know. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract."

"An army, from outer space," said Steve, displeasure etched in his every feature. Riley couldn't blame the guy—poor man had gone from Nazis with the Tesseract's power to a horde of aliens intending to attack Earth. He just didn't get a break, did he?

Riley snorted and got to her feet once again. "What, he thinks he can just bring some friends here, blow up a couple of things, and become our king?"

"Basically," said Thor.

"So he's building another portal. That's what he needs Erik Selvig for," confirmed Dr. Banner.

"Selvig?" said Thor.

"He's an astrophysicist."

"He's a friend."

"Loki has him under some kind of spell," continued Natasha, "along with a couple of ours."

"I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He's not leading an army from here," said Captain.

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag full of cats, you could smell crazy on him," said Dr. Banner.

"Don't underestimate the crazy guy," Riley added.

"I don't care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother," said Thor defensively.

"He killed eighty people in two days."

Thor hesitated. "He's adopted."

“So, you don’t know Riley?” Steve interjected, bringing Riley back into the spotlight.

“What, you assume all Asgardians know each other?” Riley snorted. “That’s racist.”

Thor looked dumbfounded. "You are of Asgard?”

Again, Riley’s brain melted into mush. “Yeah. Wait, no, sorry! I’m of Earth. From Earth. I’m kind of a…demigod-demigod.”

When Thor continued to stare at her, Natasha clarified, "He’s half-Asgardian-half-human.”

Thor’s eyes darted from one person to another. Then he began to chuckle heartily. “Oh, I see! This is a joke. A Midgardian prank, right? That’s very funny!”

Now it was Riley’s turn to be bemused. No longer flustered, she spoke up, “But…but we’re _not_ kidding. My dad was an Asgardian, and my mother was human.”

Thor’s amusement slowly died away, his eyebrows knit together as though he had been handed a rather difficult puzzle. “I do not understand. I’ve never heard of any Midgardian-Asgardian relations. I’m sure my father would have mentioned it.”

 _Are all Asgardians this…for lack of a better term, **dumb**?_ Valek scoffed _. Good thing Surtur will wipe them all out. Would do it myself if I wasn’t tied to you._ As always, Riley ignored him.

“Well, it’s the truth.” Riley shrugged helplessly, at a loss for what to say. Thankfully, at that moment, Coulson strode in, accompanied by a man in a suit. She recognized him from his file and the news as Tony Stark.

He made his way into the middle of the group, looking quite at home, smugness radiating from his very being. As he crossed the room, he casually patted Thor on one of his bulky arms. “No hard feelings Point Break, you've got a mean swing."

Thor gave him a mildly annoyed glance, but said nothing in return.

"The iridium can power Loki’s portal, and keep it open as long as he wants,” Tony continued his conversation with Coulson, then turned to quickly ask one of the Carrier BridgeTechs to raise the monitors.

"That man is playing gallaga!" he added suddenly. “Thought we wouldn't notice, but we did."

Riley followed his gaze to see that there was, in fact, an agent busying himself with a game of gallaga. Lucky.

Tony continued to pace, then looked at one of the computer monitors in front of him, covering one eye.

"How does Fury even see these?"

"He turns," said one of the female agents behind him.

"Sounds exhausting. The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density, something to kick start the cube."

 _Not a fan of this one_ , Valek interjected. _Let’s kill him._

 _You’re not a ‘fan’ of **anyone** ,_ Riley shot back internally.

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" asked the female agent.

"Last night." Tony glanced around at everyone else, frowning. "The packet, Selvig's notes, the Extraction Theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?"

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" asked Steve.

"He got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier," said Dr. Banner.

Tony thought for a moment. "Unless, Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect."

 _What?_ Thought Riley, feeling as though every single word he said had flown straight over her head.

 _I believe he’s referring to the quantum-mechanical process_ , Valek elucidated. _You know, particles passing through a barrier of energy that has an energy higher than the latter particles._

 _That…did absolutely nothing to help,_ she mentally sighed in return.

Dr. Banner shrugged. "Well, if he could do that he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet."

"Finally, someone who speaks English," said Tony, making his way over to Dr. Banner.

"That was English?" said Riley.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner," Tony greeted, shaking the Doctor's hand. "Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster."

"Thanks," said Dr. Banner, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube. I was hoping you might join him," said Fury, who'd materialized in the room.

"Let's start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a Hydra weapon," said Steve.

"Yeah, I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

Thor frowned up at him, clearly bemused. "Monkeys? I do not understand."

Steve eagerly sat upright, his expression lit. "I do!" Everyone stared at him, and he sank back into his seat again, slightly embarrassed with his outburst. "…I understood that reference."

Riley rolled her eyes, and the rest of the room began to slowly disperse, as Tony and Dr. Banner were left to work alone. Finally, Tony seemed to have noticed Riley’s presence. “Oh, hey—Brown Recluse, right? Good to meet you. Although I’d consider changing that name. Makes it sound like you’re an antisocial turd.”

Riley could hardly argue with that. “I didn’t give myself the name, you know.”

“How come you’re all…” Tony gestured widely at her outfit, “mummified? No one here is gonna go spouting off your _‘secret identity’_ to anyone, you know.”

“I like to keep my personal life apart from my work life.”

“Agent Harrow," Fury interjected, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," said Riley, noticing that everyone else had scattered. She hastily got to her feet. "I'll just be—"

"I need you to do something for me.”

Riley groaned, fearing the worst. "What is it?"

"Would you mind getting 'Real Power' over there something to eat? We don't want him to starve to death before we reach our destination."

For a moment, Riley said nothing. When she’d come to the conclusion that he wasn’t making some sick joke, she gaped at him. “You want  _me_ to fetch Astro Boy food?"

"You can get yourself something, too, if you want," said Fury, turning away as he swept out of the room. "The kitchen is down the hall, first door on the left." And with that, he vanished from sight.

“Yiiikes. _Someone’s_ still stuck doing grunt work,” said Tony, popping a blueberry in his mouth.

Riley flashed him the bird, then made for the hallway, reluctantly pulling the door to the kitchen open. There wasn't much to work with. She pulled open the refrigerator and several boxes, did a quick scan, and decided on a sandwich. It seemed highly sexist of her, to be spending her time making sandwiches for the male enemy, but it wasn’t like anyone knew she was a woman. Apart from Fury, that is. She made a mental note to chew him out later.

Was the guy vegetarian? What the hell did Asgardians even eat? Riley popped a jar of peanut butter open, deciding it was best to go basic, and put together a sloppily-done PB & J. No one would ever accuse her of being a good cook.

Sighing heavily, she set the sandwich on a paper plate and, after asking for directions from a passing agent, made her way to where Loki was being held prisoner. To her surprise, the room was already occupied by Natasha Romanoff. What was she doing in there? However, she was already walking down the path toward the exit, talking into an earpiece.

"Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I'm on my way. Set the door locked…"

She turned back a fraction to look at Loki.

"Thank you, for your cooperation." As she made her way out, she paused in front of Riley, who realized how ridiculous she must look; clearly Natasha had been in the middle of an interrogation (no doubt instigated by Fury), and here she was, carrying a sandwich to the prisoner like some sort of waitress.

"Harrow," said Natasha. Thankfully, she didn't ask Riley about the plate, but rather continued on her way out the door.

"Agent," said Riley in return, watching her disappear. She turned her attention back to the demigod, who was standing very close to the glass, looking both confused and frustrated.

"Hey, E.T.," Riley greeted, making her way up the slope toward the glass cage entrance.

Loki turned his gaze away from the door, where the agent had just vanished, and peered down at the new interrogator, his vision flooded in red. He was all but _seething_ internally, not used to being tricked. Typically he was the one pulling the wool over one’s eyes, and it infuriated him that some _mortal female_ had gotten the better of him _. Deceiving little quim._

But his ire quelled rather hastily as the new agent entered, carrying a sandwich on a plate. He recognized the man from one of the files Agent Barton had showed him in their hideout; he’d demanded that Barton give him everything he knew about this “Avengers” group Fury had concocted, but Barton had failed to bring him little more than a name for this one. The “Brown Recluse,” if he remembered correctly. Riley Harrow or some such silly name. Admittedly, the absence of information had piqued his interest; _what was this man hiding?_ Barton described seeing him in action, and knowing of his strength, but nothing else could be said of the reclusive agent.

"Is this all they deem you worth?" Loki asked mildly.

Riley tried to ignore him. She pressed a round, orange button on the control panel, unlocking a small, box-like opening in the cage. As quickly as possible, she pushed the plate in through the gap and eyed Loki expectantly.

Loki glanced down at the plate of food before him, breathed a very faint sniff, and made a face.

"Disgusting," he commented.

"Fine. Starve." She curtly turned away, wanting nothing more than to get out of there as soon as humanly (or…Asgardianly) possible.

"Something tells me you're…displeased," said Loki, slowly stalking her around the edge of the cage as she walked. She paused mid-step.

"Well,  _yeah,_  you insulted my cooking," Riley huffed.

 _With good reason_ , Valek chimed in.

A Cheshire-Cat grin emerged on Loki’s pointed facial features. "Yes, but that's not what I meant. I was curious as to why you seem so keen on avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you," she huffed.

"Oh? Then why won’t you look at me?”

"That's—that's because—” Riley struggled to find the right words. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth, that she was afraid of letting her curiosity get the better of her, lest he use it against her. That said, she fell silent, at a loss for a proper answer.

A sudden thought occurred to her then. Finally meeting his eyes (though he would be unable to see hers), she drew closer to the cage, gloved hands balling into fists. “Where’s Howarth? What did you do to her?”

The god canted his head to the right, looking rather like a curious puppy. “Agent Howarth? Ahh…is she your woman?”

“Did you hurt her?” Riley demanded, ignoring his teasing.

“I haven’t yet, but seeing as you’re so _fond_ of her—”

It took everything she had to not break the glass then and there, knock him to the ground, and beat him senseless. “Touch her and I’ll shove your own _skull_ up your ass.”

Loki chuckled, the sound a rumbling storm in his chest. He strode up to the front of the glass and placed one hand on it, his _piercing_ beryl (blue? Hadn’t they been green before?) eyes boring into her. “Tell me, Harrow. Why is your file so empty?”

Riley’s arms crossed her chest, hip jutted out to one side. Even as perceptive as he was, Loki still did not take notice of the _femininity_ of her stance. “You saw my information?”

“If you can _call_ it that. What are you trying to _hide_ , Agent? I must say, you have me quite intrigued.”

“Glad to hear it. But if you saw my file, then you know I’m half-Asgardian. That’s a pretty big secret, so obviously I can’t have much else left to hide.”

Loki’s verdant (okay, so she was just seeing things now) eyes flickered, the light catching them as surprise glittered within the widening irises. “Half-Asgardian?”

Oh, _shit._ He must have seen her _general_ SHIELD file, not the Avengers one! “Well fuck.”

“Indeed.” Loki canted his head to the side, perfect teeth bared in a predatory grin. “You’re half-Asgardian? How?”

“Well, when a man and a woman _really_ like each other—”

“I’m well-versed in the process,” he snapped back, though his smile never faltered. “Odin never told me about a _half-breed_ wandering Midgard.”

“Yeah, well, here I am.”

Interesting. So a Midgardian and Asgardian had copulated, and created this… _abomination_. The man no doubt had questions regarding his heritage, then, assuming the Asgardian parent hadn’t stuck around. After all, who could live with the shame of a half-breed son?

“I could get you the information you desire, you know,” Loki offered in a soft purr. “All you have to do is _ask_.”

Another shiver ghosted along Riley’s spine. “About…?”

“Your family tree, obviously.” Inky brows arched, pallid smile revealing those pearly teeth.

Riley’s lips pursed, though Loki would be unable to see it. “You’re assuming I care about my heritage. I _don’t.”_ With that, she turned on her heel and strutted from the room, the _burn_ of Loki’s eyes never leaving the back of her head.

Affronted, Loki watched him go, helpless to reel him back in. _Helpless_ —not a term Loki was particularly fond of, nor a feeling he enjoyed. He had a talent for getting under people’s skin, _digging_ into their flesh and dredging up the worst aspects of their personality, so frankly, it bothered him that this “Brown Recluse” had simply brushed him aside in such a dismissive manner. Discerning as he was, he saw right through the man’s nonchalant guise, and could tell he was positively _chomping at the bit_ for more information. That was what made his immediate rejection all the more frustrating.

His focus needed to remain on the matter at hand, on his plan as it slowly unraveled. So for the sake of staying on-track, he put aside his growing interest in this mystery man—if only for the time being.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are pretty slow right now, but will pick up soon.   
> Reviews and suggestions welcome! I want to ensure that Loki (or the other characters, for that matter) don't become too OOC.

_Ooh, I quite like him_ , Valek commented, his image practically _skipping_ alongside Riley as she all but stomped up the hall, returning to the labratory. _Pretty perceptive bloke._

 _Of course you’d like him,_ Riley muttered, trying to pay no heed to the cold perspiration beginning to pepper the back of her neck. _Of course_ she had been bloody interested in what _God of Assholery_ had to say about her heritage, but she wasn’t exactly weak-minded—Valek was proof enough of that. Even so, she figured it would be best to put some distance between them, in the event that curiosity did, in fact, get the better of her.

Riley swung the lab door open, only to walk into the middle of a heated argument. From what she could gather, Thor, Natasha, Steve, Tony, and Dr. Banner were accusing Fury of lying to them about something.

"Did you know about this?" Bruce growled.

"You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?" Natasha intervened gently, but with a degree of caution.

"I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed," the doctor answered smoothly.

"Loki's manipulating you."

"And you've been doing  _what_  exactly?

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you," Natasha pointed out.

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's going on?" said Riley, and everyone in the room jerked their heads toward her in surprise, evidently having not noticed her enter the room.

"Hey, Rover," said Tony with a small whistle. Riley blinked sluggishly, taken aback by the nickname.

“Are…are you calling me a dog?” she demanded, but Bruce cut her off.

"I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction.”

“What!” Riley yelped, nearly losing Valek’s voice in favor of her own. “Weapons of—Fury, what the hell? Is this true?”

Fury hesitated, then pointed his index finger accusingly at Thor. "Because of him."

"Me?" said Thor, looking bewildered, rather akin to a deer in the headlights.

"Last year earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge mass that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, out gunned."

Thor shook his head. "My people want nothing but peace with your planet."

"But you're not the only people out there, are you? And, you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, they can't be controlled," said Fury reasonably.

"Like you controlled the cube?" said Steve.

"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it," said Thor, "and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the earth is ready for a higher form of war."

"A higher form?"

Fury shrugged. "You forced our hand. We had to come up with something."

"A nuclear deterrent, cause," said Tony, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "that always calms everything right down."

"Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?" said Fury.

"I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep..." Steve muttered.

"Wait! Wait! Hold on! How is this now about me?" Tony snarled.

"I'm sorry, isn't everything?"

"Steve, come on, don’t—" Riley protested.

"If I want your help, Lassie, I'll whistle for you," Tony retorted.

"Oh- _ho_ , you're just _asking_ for it now—" Riley hissed.

"Leave him out of it—" Steve growled.

Thor shook his head in annoyance. "I thought humans were more evolved than this."

Fury turned on him sharply. "Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?"

That's when the arguments escalated. Everyone began talking over each other, all having their own input on the conversation, but it was almost impossible to tell who was who.

"You speak of control, yet you court chaos," said Thor.

"It's his M.O., isn't it? I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no. We're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're...we're a time-bomb," Dr. Banner mentioned.

"You need to step away."

"Why shouldn't they guy let off a little steam?" said Tony, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"You know damn well why! Back off!" Steve snapped, slapping his hand sharply away.

"Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me."

"Yeah, big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?"

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

"Don't forget egotistical, arrogant, and a prat," Riley added, and Tony turned to disagree, but Steve didn't give him the chance.

"He’s right. I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"I think I would just  _cut_  the wire."

"Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

"A hero, like you? You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."

Steve's expression hardened. "Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds."

"This is ridiculous,” Riley huffed. “All of you need to stop acting like children.”

“Big words from a man behind a mask,” Tony taunted. “What makes you so special, huh? No one else is hiding behind some _super-secret_ identity.”

“ _What exactly_ did I do to piss you off so much?”

"You people are so petty, and tiny,” Thor chuckled.

"Yeah, this is a tee..."

"Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his..."

 _"Where?_ You're renting my room."

"The cell was just..."

"In case you needed to kill me, but you can't! I know,  _I TRIED."_

The room suddenly fell uncomfortably silent.

Awkwardly as possible, as though he was having difficulties being in his own skin, Bruce crossed his arms over his chest before continuing, "I got low, I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out. So I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk...You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?" Dr. Banner's expression was dark now, and he had reached subconsciously back to pick up Loki' scepter, which he clenched tightly in his hand.

Riley felt a combination of pity and caution arise in her as she took a step back. She could feel the heat of magic beginning to hum in her hands, prepared in the event that he might lose it. She knew how he felt, being treated like a weapon, unable to take control of his own emotions. Valek had driven her to the brink many times before, but suicide was never an option. He never allowed for it; it was the one thing he had a consistent grip on in her life, and anytime she attempted to end them both, he intervened.

She very nearly shouted, “I’m the same way! I have an _old as fuck_ demon running the show in my head! I know how you feel!” but couldn’t bring herself to speak.

"Dr. Banner, put down the scepter," said Steve calmly.

At that same moment, the computer flashed a signal for locating the Tesseract. Dr. Banner stared at the scepter in mild surprise, put it down, and walked towards the computer monitor.

"Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my party trick after all."

Riley let go of a long-held breath, exhaling deeply. Things were taking a turn for the better, it seemed.

"Located the Tesseract?"

"I can get there faster.

"Look, all of us..." Steve began.

"The Tesseract belongs on Asgard; no human is a match for it."

"Thor's right," said Riley, peering up at him. Even if she was only half-Asgardian, she knew full well that any object from their world was not to be tampered with by humans, "none of you would be able to control it."

Stark turned to leave, but Steve stopped him.

"You're not going alone!"

"You gonna stop me?" Tony challenged.

Steve's aura was now burning with fury.

"Put on the suit, let's find out."

Tony smirked. "I'm not afraid to hit an old man. "

_"Put on the suit."_

Riley rolled her eyes. There was just absolutely no getting through to the two of them.  _Two giant man-children, honestly..._

At that moment, Dr. Banner, who was looking at the monitor, seemed to notice something about the Tesseract, as indicated by an audible gasp.

"Oh, my God!"

Suddenly, the ship gave an enormous jerk, sending everyone thrown in all directions. Riley was tossed sideways like a ragdoll, her body _slamming_ into the ground shoulder-first, the impact causing her to bite the inside of her cheek and draw blood. Before she could so much as right herself, the flooring beneath her crumbled. She gave a yelp of surprise as she plummeted downwards along with piles of debris, landing flat on her face on the ground. Warm blood swelled from her mouth, flooding the inside of her mask. She peeled it down and spit, coloring the ground with a crimson shower.

She was lying beside Natasha, who was currently trapped under a pile of rubble. Next to her lay Dr. Banner. However, something was obviously wrong with the man…He was trembling violently like a leaf in a storm, his hands clenched on his head and knuckles white. His face was contorted in some kind of combination of rage and confusion, his teeth grit and jaw set as he shook from head to toe. Riley wiped her mouth and set her mask back into place, pupils blown wide as she stared at the convulsing man.

"Doctor?" What frightened Riley even further was that Natasha's own voice, for the first time, sounded apprehensive. "Bruce, you gotta fight it. This is just what Loki wants. We're gonna be okay. Listen to me."

Dr. Banner hesitated for a split-second, and Riley righted herself on her butt, rubbing the back of her neck. How far had they fallen? She peered skyward in an attempt to gauge where they were, but her attention was swiftly drawn back by the squeak of Natasha’s voice.

"We're gonna be okay. Right? I swear on my life I will get you out of this, you will walk away, and never—"

Suddenly Bruce growled, his teeth bared like a wild animal. _“YOUR_ LIFE?”

"Bruce—"

Dr. Banner's clothes began to tear, ripping apart from his body as it grew, turning a horrible dark green. His expression darkened, and the muscles in his arms bulged out to ten times their size. Riley could only stare in horror, jaw askew and eyes huge as she watched him grow, and grow, and grow—

"Riley—" Natasha was struggling under the pile of rubble, jerking violently back and forth as she tried to free herself. "Help—"

Brave, strong Natasha Romanoff, pleading for Riley's assistance.  _She must be trapped pretty deep._

Riley hastily reached forward and began pushing frantically on the object atop Natasha, mustering all the strength within her. The roar of the Hulk behind her intensified her panic, and she gave it one last hard shove. The heavy item rolled off of Natasha with a loud creaking noise. The woman struggled free, taking Riley's free arm to steady herself to her feet.

But it was a second too late; Dr. Banner was now fully transformed into the Hulk, towering over the two of them like an enormous green boulder. Riley and Natasha gawked up at him fearfully, waiting to see if he had any control. He gave a massive bellow, his teeth bared angrily, and began to advance on them.

_Yeah, I'd say he's lost control._

"Oh, _fuck!”_

Riley took off running at top speed, but her leg was weighing her down; it felt as though she had pulled something in it, or in the very least injured it in her fall from the ground above. But she wasn't about to stop now—she could practically feel the Hulk's hot breath panting on the back of her neck, could hear his horrible roaring echoing in her ears…

 _He could seriously injure us,_ Valek pointed out helpfully as Riley’s boots pounded heavily on the floor. _Even **kill** the redhead._

 _Fuck you! You’re just manipulating me_ , she snarled back. _I’m not going to use too much power, so don’t even try to convince me._

Natasha was keeping her pace up well, but Riley noticed she was about a second behind her. Perhaps it was one of the perks of being half-Asgardian, she decided, since she had a feeling that without the god blood, the short, overweight woman would not stand a chance against the highly-trained, athletic agent.

Riley half-turned her body as she ran, knowing Valek was right, at least to some degree. She had learned to balance how much of his power she used, and drew her arms up to attack. Taking aim at the Hulk, she lured dense magic into the palms of her hands, feeling it swell and burst as a massive ball of black light surged forward. The Hulk staggered, howling in pain, and fell to his knees. He shook his head to clear it, looking dazed, and let out a furious roar. His muscles rippled up his thick olive arms, and he charged them even faster than before.

 _"Great_  idea, Harrow!" Natasha hollered at Riley as they sprinted through the dark room, their feet pounding hard on the ground.

"Didn't see you tossing out any plans!" Riley shouted back.

But the blast had indeed stopped the Hulk for a moment, giving them more time to get away. This, however, was a small victory, for the second she turned the corner, she found herself skidding to a halt. She had reached a dead end.

"Uh-oh."

What was more...where had Natasha gone? Riley turned just in time to see the agent come flying in her direction, having been evidently smacked, hard, by one of the Hulk's massive fists.

Natasha sank to her knees, winded and clearly in pain, as the Hulk rounded the corner, his face contorted in fuming rage. It was pretty noticeable now how afraid the agent really was, and Riley couldn't blame her, seeing as the woman only had a gun, which did basically nothing against the monster.

“Bruce, it’s okay!” Riley cried out, hoping to reach some sane part of his mind. “Please—”

“NO BANNER!” the Hulk roared, storming straight for her. Riley raised her arms shakily above her head, creating a gigantic, black mass of shadowy energy over them, preparing to hurl it into him, with the knowledge in her mind that it was probably no use. The Hulk bolted straight for them at top speed, raising one fist in kind, ready to strike the two of them straight into next week—

At the last second, Thor came plowing through into the room and grabbed the Hulk, knocking him through the wall and away from them.

"We're not your enemies, Banner! Try to think!" Riley heard Thor shout, but his voice was followed by an abrupt  _Oof!_ as he had apparently been punched.

Riley exhaled a sigh of relief as she allowed the red energy to return to the palms of her hands. "That was  _way_ too close."

But Natasha said nothing. Riley peered down at the agent, who was sitting slumped over on the floor, trembling slightly. She made no attempt to mask the sheer terror in her expression.

"All right?" Riley asked, kneeling down hesitantly.

Natasha's frightened beryl eyes met Riley's brown for a fleeting second before looking away again. "F… _f-fine_ ," she said, her voice unsteady.

Riley thought for a moment. "Why don't you stay here and recover? I'll go help Thor out, and I'll call you on my earpiece if I need you."

Natasha hesitated. "That's…y-yeah. Sure," she mumbled shakily.

Riley nodded. She leapt through the hole in the wall Thor had created, wincing as her hurt leg hit the ground. It wasn't hard to spot Thor and the Hulk, who were engaged in serious combat. The pair were practically taking turns, Thor taking a swing at him with his hammer and the Hulk returning the favor with his fists.

The Hulk lifted the nearest object to him and flung it straight at Thor with all his might. Riley's eyes locked onto it just in time, and she re-directed it away from them, letting it crash onto the ground some feet away. Thor frowned in bewilderment, possibly wondering if he had done that.

"Need a hand?" Riley called. Thor turned and shot her a heart-stopping grin, but in the next second, he was back in battle-mode, hurling his hammer at the Hulk.

The three of them fought in a circle, but Riley kept her distance from the Hulk as she did so, not wanting to get too close just in case. Instead, she conducted the objects in the room, smashing them into him and lifting the ones in his hand away before he could use it against them. She hadn’t used this amount of magic in quite some time, and while it wasn’t enough to give Valek access to her mind, it left her with an exhilarating feeling of power.

Without warning, one of the SHIELD pilot planes soared down toward the gap in the end of the room, descending low. The pilot began to try to shoot the Hulk from his jet outside the ship.

"No!  _STOP!”_ Riley screamed at the pilot, but she knew he couldn't hear her.

" _Don't worry, Harrow,"_ a voice in Riley's earpiece spoke, startling her. It was Fury.  _"All part of the plan."_

Riley couldn't see how this plan could be in any way sensible as the Hulk leapt out of the ship, landing on the jet's nose. He began tearing it violently apart, seizing the pilot as he tried to eject from it. Finally, after a fairly short struggle between the two, the plane plummeted down, taking the Hulk with it.

Riley's hands flew up to her mouth. "He'll be okay—right?" she demanded, turning to Thor for reassurance.

Thor considered the situation for a moment. "I am sure that he will be just fine, Riley."

Riley had a feeling he was mostly just trying to make her feel better, but she was glad for his attempt regardless. "Right."

"Frightened?" Thor suggested, grinning down at her.

"Guess it's kind of obvious, huh?" She lifted her gloved hands to eye-level, watching her fingers tremble. "The offspring of a god and I can't even stop shaking. Pret-ty sad."

 _Seriously,_ Valek agreed.

Thor laughed, not unkindly. "Even Asgardians have flaws. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Riley opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She was saved having to think of something, however, as a voice in her ear said,  _"It's Barton, he took our systems. He's headed for the detention lab. Does anybody copy?"_

" _This is Agent Romanoff. I copy,"_ Natasha's voice echoed in their earpieces.

"What now?" said Riley, turning to Thor for directions.

"Now we stop Loki."

The pair raced back down through the winding helicarrier, toward the area where Loki was imprisoned. Moving fast, Thor yanked the door open and he stormed in, just in time to see the door to Loki's cage sliding open.

" _NO!"_

Thor rocketed forward, hurtling himself into the cage at Loki, but to his and Riley's surprise, he went straight  _through_ The God of Mischief. His image vanished in a watery ripple.

"Thor!" Riley shouted, racing into the room. The real Loki materialized a few feet away from the cage, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Are you ever  _not_  going to fall for that?" said Loki calmly.

Riley rounded on Loki, raising her hands again. A large blast of black flames illuminated the room, firing straight into Loki's chest. Yet again, his image flickered into nothingness and a third Loki appeared at the control panel, his expression amused.

"The half-blood thinks he has a chance against a god," said Loki, his grin widening, "just because he has a touch of Asgardian in him."

"No, I think I have a chance because you're an overconfident git," said Riley, raising one hand again. "Now get the hell away from the controls or I'll blast every last one of your clones till I find the real one."

Loki chuckled coldly, sending an icy chill down Riley's spine. "I like this one," he said to his brother, as he grazed his fingers slowly across the buttons before him, still smiling. "Your attempts to hide your fear are pretty entertaining, I must say…The humans think us immortal. Should we test that?" He placed his hand over the button that would send Thor plunging out of the ship.

" _No—!"_ Riley began, creating another orb of energy in her hands. However, just as Loki was about to open the hole in the middle of the glass cell, Coulson suddenly appeared, holding a very large, dangerous-looking weapon in his hands.

"Move away, please."

Loki very slowly moved away from the switch, and while he raised his hands in surrender, he didn’t seem particularly fazed by the gun.

"Phil, be careful," Riley warned, still holding one hand out in front of her.

Coulson nodded his acknowledgement to her. "You like this? We started working on the prototype after you sent The Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does...Do you wanna find out?"

And that's when the entire world crumbled to dust and debris around Riley. In under a second, before Riley could even move an inch, Loki had teleported directly behind Coulson, stabbing his scepter directly into the man's back, through his heart.

" _PHIL!"_ Riley shrieked. There was no way that had just happened—it was impossible, there was just  _no way_ that it was possible—

" _NOOO!"_ Thor shouted, banging on the cage walls, his expression deeply anguished.

Riley charged Loki, waving glistening black flames in all directions, inadvertently burning various equipment in the room as she went, blinded by rage. He ducked and returned the action with shimmering green waves, and Riley had to dive to the side to avoid being engulfed in the magic.

Loki hit the button hard, opening the hole in the cell, and dropped Thor out of the ship trapped in the glass cage.

“Oh, shit! _Thor!”_ Riley changed directions, moving toward the gaping hole in the ground. Coulson was beyond help, there was no denying that—but if she could _just_ lock her eyes onto the cage, she could maybe lift it back up and prevent it from hitting the ground—

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Loki's silky voice whispered in Riley's ear, and she jumped with a muffled yelp, startled. He was standing directly behind her, so close that his shoulders touched the back of hers and his abdomen pressed into her lower back.

She drew her knee up and kicked back hard, but her foot didn't even make impact with him. Two lean arms seized her own and pinned them to her sides with surprising strength. Riley struggled violently against them, but she ceased the moment she felt the scepter cross her throat. She froze, petrified, but it did not penetrate her mask.

"If you're planning on killing me, why not just do it?" Riley hissed back boldly, but on the inside, her heart was pounding so fast and so loudly that she could barely hear herself think.

Loki laughed cold air softly into her ear and she winced. "Because it seems that curiosity has gotten the better of both of us, hasn't it, Harrow?" The scepter pierced the fabric of her mask at her neck, and it became clear to Riley he was attempting to remove it from her face. Forcing magic to her hands, power exploded from them, thrusting Loki backwards with a surprised _“oof!”_

Loki found his footing right before hitting the ground, boots skidding as he righted himself, pallid lips curled in a snarl. This demigod had a fair amount of power, he’d give him that much. Though how he’d managed to _control_ the magic was currently beyond his comprehension, since he doubted the mongrel’s parents had stuck around to assist in teaching him the art.

 _Hold back,_ a voice—not Valek’s, but her own—whispered in Riley’s head. Murder only brought her closer to Valek, and it was something she did out of necessity, not emotion.

 _He deserves it,_ Valek crooned, and Riley turned to find him standing beside where Loki knelt, fanged teeth bared in a crooked smile. _He stabbed Phil. He’s got your friend under his control, and he just quite possibly killed his own brother. What other reasons could you possibly need?_

Whilst she grappled with her own personal demon, eyes locked onto where Loki slowly stood, a weak voice broke the tense silence.

"You're gonna lose."

Riley looked up in surprise to see Coulson, still alive but in bad condition, staring up at Loki confidently.

"Am I?" said Loki, turning his attention to Coulson.

"It's in your nature."

"Your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky..." He gave a smug smile. "Where _is_  my disadvantage?"

"Your lack conviction."

For the first time, Loki looked insulted. "I don't think  _I_..."

Suddenly, a giant ball of fire blasted Loki through the wall behind him with such a force that the ground shook. Riley looked up in shock to see Coulson holding the new weapon in his hands, smiling faintly. "So that's what it does."

"Coulson!" Riley staggered unsteadily to her feet, wobbling over to Coulson's side. "Phil—hang in there, buddy, don't—don't go out on me."

But Coulson just continued to smile ever-so-slightly up at her. "It's too late."

"No. No, it's not." Riley pressed her earpiece down with two fingers. "Fury! Coulson is down, I repeat, Coulson is down!" She placed one hand against his chest, feeling the warm, sticky blood wet the palm of her hand. She ripped down her mask and tugged the goggles away from her eyes, allowing Coulson to see her face.

"You're going to be fine," said Riley, but her confidence was falling fast. "I've called in help—I'm going after Loki. And damn it, don't you dare die on me while I'm gone!" she added, but Coulson shook his head.

"It was honestly a true pleasure working with you, Agent Harrow."

" _Riley._  And stop talking like that! I already told you, you're  _fine._ "

"Right, Riley," breathed Phil, his eyes lidded now. "Just go and stop him."

Riley nodded, feeling a stir of guilt in the pit of her stomach, and she leapt through the hole where Loki had crashed through. She picked her way through the rubble, but he was nowhere to be seen. Determined, she climbed up through the second hole in the room, where she presumed he'd climbed through, but when she reached the top, she was greeted with nothing but the wind howling in her ears and the sounds of the battle to keep the ship running raging on.

Coulson's death had been for nothing. Loki had escaped nevertheless, and he was on the run again. Riley felt hot tears well up in her eyes, and she undid her earpiece just for the moment, so that she may be granted a moment to cry uninterrupted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another short chapter, but hey, I'm cranking them out really fast, so y'all can hardly complain. Not a whole lot of plot development, but there's a small tidbit regarding Riley's past. More of that to come in the next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks!

 

  
Maybe it would hurt less if Loki had just killed her. Stabbed her through the heart, left her bloodied corpse there to rot...But no, he’d left her alive, to witness and grieve over Phil's body, to wish with all her heart that she could switch places with him…

 _Never liked him much anyway._ Valek prowled around Riley in a circle, his pupils blown wide, giving him the impression of a predator—a feline stalking a mouse, haunches up and excitement pulsing behind feral eyes.

Riley sank slowly to her knees, making no attempt to stop the tears from flooding out of her eyes. She sobbed openly into her hands shakily, trying and failing to shove Valek from her mind.

 _It’s hardly surprising,_ another voice chimed in, and Riley hiccupped, choking mid-sob. _You didn’t save us, either. Selfish bitch._

Riley lifted her head from her hands, her face soaked in crimson, tears and snot dripping all over her arms. Emmett Johnson stood in front of her, brows raised as he assessed her in a critical manner, those all-too-real hazel eyes scorching her.

“Stop it,” she commanded aloud, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Don’t fucking do this right now.”

 _Do what?_ A second voice sneered, as a blonde male crossed her line of vision. Scott. _Die? Stay dead? What? Speak up, **cunt.**_

 _“STOP!”_ Riley shrieked, but the ghosts only closed in on her, their familiar faces melting as their flesh fell in horrid glops around their skulls.

 _Loki had been right there, in your grasp, and you let him get away,_ the ghosts moaned accusingly. _You let Phil die. You—_

At that moment, she heard a faint buzzing coming from her removed earpiece. Biting her lip hard, she lifted it back up to her ear. "Y-yeah?" Her voice trembled.

_"I repeat: To any of the remaining Avengers: We are converging in the main conference room.”_

But Riley remained rooted on the spot. The ghosts were gone—evaporated into mist—but the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach remained.

In order to go up to the room, she would have to return back through the area where Coulson's body lay, in a pool of blood. Against her will, a small spark of hope stirred within her: What if he was still alive? It wasn't set in stone that he was dead, it wasn't—

Riley shook the idea away. Hope was dangerous.

She turned in a robotic-like trance back to the hole, climbing down and walking mechanically into the room. Unsurprisingly, Phil's body was no longer there. Apparently the other agents had already come to get him. All that remained now were a couple of red stains on the ground and floor. To the unknowing, it could have been spilled wine, or splattered paint. She preferred to think of it that way.

Clenching her jaw tightly, she raced out of the room as fast as she could go on a hurt leg, pelting upwards till she reached the ship's meeting room. Tugging her mask and goggles back into place, she gave the door a hard shove, expecting to see a crowded room, but merely three people occupied the space.

"Hey," said Tony when she took a seat at the far end of the table. She noted that he didn't add any kind of nickname or rude remark.

Steve merely acknowledged her with a nod. Both of them were decently beat up; Tony's armor and Steve's shield were both badly scratched up.

Fury approached the table, his expression blank. "These were in Phil Coulson's jacket. Guess he never did get you to sign them."

He threw Coulson's Captain America trading cards on the table towards Steve, who picked one up, frowning deeply. Riley bit back a sharp gasp as she realized that the cards were sticky with blood.

"We're dead in the air up here. Our communications, location of the cube, Banner, Thor. I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming."

He paused for a moment. Riley hung her head in shame; she'd forgotten all about Thor, who she could have helped, if she had just been a little bit quicker. She prayed silently that he was somehow okay—he  _was,_ in fact, a god...

"Yes...we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier. There was an idea—Stark knows this—called The Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes."

Tony got abruptly to his feet and left the room, shoving the door open harshly. As he vanished around the corner, Fury added, "Well, it's an old fashioned notion." And he, too, left the room, his cloak flying behind him.

Riley wrung her hands together nervously. It was impossible to think of anything beyond the obvious, no matter how hard she tried.

"You two worked together?"

Riley glanced sidelong at Steve. He was still looking at Phil Coulson's bloody cards. She nodded slightly, but she couldn't bring herself to make any actual words.

"Were you close?"

Riley shrugged her shoulders. "Sort of. Yeah. We were...'friends', I guess. Yeah. Friends.”

Steve remained silent for a moment, staring at Riley as though contemplating her.

"Are you okay?”

Riley swallowed thickly. Valek sat folded up in one of the rolling chairs across from her, legs crossed and predacious eyes gleaming at her. When she made eye contact, he winked.

“Yeah, I…I’m fine. You?”

“All right.”

Tense silence passed between the two. What exactly were they supposed to discuss, anyway? Shoot the breeze, talk weather? Sports? Comment on the fact that one of SHIELD’s most loyal agents was just gutted like a fish?

"So, think we should check on Stark?"

"Stark? Oh..." Riley frowned. She'd forgotten that he was closer to Coulson than any of them. "Yeah. That might be a good idea."

It took a good four minutes to find out where Tony had gone. They finally tracked him down in Loki's old cage room, where Coulson's body lay only minutes ago. He was leaning over the railing, his gaze vacant. She hadn’t known him long, but she’d immediately pegged him for an egotistical jackass. But she knew full well how shitty it was to pass such quick judgement on a person, and his current state confirmed this thought. The poor guy just seemed…lost.

"Was he married?" said Steve suddenly. Tony turned sharply to look at them.

"No. There was a...cellist, I think."

"I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man."

"He was," said Riley quietly.

"He was an idiot," corrected Stark.

"Why? For believing?"

"For taking on Loki alone."

Riley winced. "He wasn't."

Tony raised his eyebrows at her. "What do you mean?"

Riley bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed. "I was there when it happened. Loki...stabbed him through the heart, from behind."

"There was nothing you could do," said Steve.

Riley shook her head quickly and her eyes began to water again. "No, I can name fifty things I could have done differently. I should have never even let him try to take him on—"

Tony put up a hand to silence her. "Wasn't your fault, Marley. He shouldn't have gone down there in the first place."

This time, Riley didn't even bother correcting his petname for her.

"He was doing his job," said Steve.

"He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have..."

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony."

"Right. How did that work for him?"

Tony seemed utterly defeated. Riley looked from one man to the other, her heart constricting as though a boa had coiled itself firmly around it. Here he was allowing his layers to peel back, baring his soul for them to behold. Here he was sharing in her grief, in search of a friendly face, of a companion with which he could take solace in. The arrogant, swaggering mask had chipped.

Without a second thought, Riley popped off her goggles, shrugged down her hood, and peeled her mask off.

The other two merely stared, flabbergasted. Another long silence commenced, and Riley could feel heat pulsing into her face.

“You’re…a woman?” Tony said finally.

Riley nodded, and the highly awkward quiet continued. Had Riley been a prettier woman, this would have been a perfect, Hollywood-esque moment. The badass warrior would peel back her mask to reveal herself as a gorgeous babe, and all men would gawk in awe at her, shocked and drooling.

But for Riley? There was no shock and awe, no blushing or sudden flirtations. Instead, Steve said a mere, “Huh.”, and the moment concluded.

She’d been hoping for at least a _little bit_ more of a reaction—not necessarily because she was a woman (although admittedly, she would have enjoyed a Hollywood moment), but because she had revealed her face to them. She was an exceedingly private person these days, and had worked hard to keep things that way. So the fact that she had just revealed her “secret identity” _should_ have been more satisfactory.

Steve turned back to Tony, continuing as though Riley hadn’t just proven her trust in them through an emotional reveal.

"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier—?”

"We are _not_  soldiers!" said Tony loudly, his voice echoing around the room. He lowered it again. "I'm not marching to Fury's fife."

"Neither am I. He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does, but right now we gotta put that behind us and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list..."

"He made it personal."

"That's not the point."

"That  _is_  the point. That's Loki's point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?"

"To tear us apart," said Steve.

"To pin us against each other," said Riley, hooking her goggles on her hip.

"He had to conquer his greed, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience."

Steve nodded. "Right. I caught his act in Stuttgart."

"Yeah. That's just previews, this is...this is opening night. And Loki, he's a full-tail diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered—"

Suddenly Tony broke off mid-sentence, his eyes wide in realization.

"What is it?" said Riley.

"Son of a bitch."

Tony pushed past both of them, running back through the door. Riley and Steve exchanged a bemused look, then hurried after him, shouting.

"Wait! Tony, what's his plan?" Riley hollered.

"Stark Towers!" Tony shouted back from up ahead. "He's going to set up his little act at my home."

"You're joking!"

"Come on, let's get Agent Romanoff and Barton," said Steve, taking Riley by the arm and re-directing her through a different door. He was more gentle with her now than he’d been before, and she somewhat regretted revealing her gender.

"Time to go."

Natasha looked up from a cup of coffee she was pouring.

"Go where?"

"I'll tell you on the way. Can you fly one of those jets?"

Agent Clint Barton entered the room, wiping his face on a towel. For the first time, Riley got a good look at him, now that they were in person.

"I can."

"No longer under Loki's spell?" Riley asked Natasha hesitantly. The agent nodded slowly, her beautiful baby blues wide as she looked Riley over.

“You’re a girl.”

“Yep.”

“Funny, I always took you for a dude,” Barton remarked, tossing the hand towel aside. “You do a damn good impression.”

“Did you happen to, uh…Did you happen to see Agent Howarth?” Riley ventured, hope flitting through brown eyes.

“Oh, yeah. She’s…” Barton grimaced, meeting Riley’s eyes with a great degree of hesitation. “She’s still under Loki’s mind control.”

“Why? What was he having her do?” Riley cut in immediately, feeling her face grow warm with ire.

“Fighting. Science-y stuff. Nothing really bad,” he reassured her, and Riley’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“How did you snap him out of it?” Riley now asked Natasha, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

“Cognitive recalibration.” Riley stared. “I hit him really hard on the head.”

“Ah. Thanks, I’ll remember that.”

"You got a suit?" said Steve.

Clint nodded. "Yeah."

"Then suit up."

In a group, all of them moved together as one, toward the jets. Riley, Steve, Natasha, and Clint climbed into one of them, heading for the front, where a young SHIELD pilot stopped them, getting to his feet to shoo them away.

"You guys aren't authorized to be in here," the pilot warned, moving toward them to try and get them back out.

Steve half-smiled, tilting his head to one side. "Son, just don't."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter again with a bit of an odd ending, but I wanted to split this section into two chapters. Please leave a comment or kudos if you're enjoying the fic!
> 
> Also, there's a lil' Easter Egg sort of deal mentioned in the end notes, so don't forget to check that out!

Riley had barely managed to climb down the massive "R" in STARK when Tony Stark himself came barreling out of the window, shattering the glass around him in a violent shower of jagged shards.

 _"Tony!"_ she hollered, horrified by the sight of his lifeless form shooting toward the concrete.

_Why isn't he wearing his suit?_

But in answer to her question, a bullet-shaped red-and-yellow object bolted out of the window after him, catching him just in time before he hit the ground, surrounding his body into the suit. The moment he was completely suited up, he flew back up, hovering a few feet away from her.

"—And there's one other person you pissed off!" he shouted, undoubtedly to someone inside his tower. "His name is Phil."

He lifted one hand and shot a powerful energy blast from his metal palm, earning a loud  _WHAM!_ from somewhere inside the room.

"Hey there, Scooby," said Tony, lifting one hand to wave in Riley's direction. "How's it hanging?"

"Funny, Stark. Sorry we're late—we ran into a couple of problems along the way."

"You should get a suit instead. Like me."

Riley let go of the "R" and fell heavily on her hands and knees at the entrance to his tower, her layers of clothing billowing around her. She had put her mask securely back in place, though she was beginning to think that it wasn’t that big of a deal; having a “secret identity” initially made her feel safer, more secure…But as long as no one recognized her (she had been just a kid back then. And she’d _taken care_ of things. Who would remember her?), what did it matter if she wore a mask?

Riley jumped as the tip of a scepter swiped at her knees, very nearly nicking her skin. Eyes narrowed in a glower, she fixated her irritation on Loki, who flashed her a devilishly charming smile. But she _knew_ charismatic smiles—Valek had perfected the art of disarming grins—and wasn’t impressed.

“Hey, God of Dicks,” she greeted, fumbling in her robe pocket. “How goes it?”

 _Where's Stark?_ He seemed to have disappeared amidst their mini-duel.

Loki lazily twirled the scepter around between his fingers, seeming for all the world _bored_ with their interaction. “Good evening, Harrow. How’s your agent friend? Phil, was it?”

If looks could kill, Riley’s expression would have burned a whole through her mask and strangled Loki with his own intestines. She fished a weapon from her pocket—a small wooden staff, a few inches long until such time as she extended it into longer segments, like chain-links. It worked as a whip, and had become one of her preferred weapons for combat.

Where it originated from, Riley knew not. It had belonged to one of her parents, and was one of few belongings she’d been able to keep after they died. There was a strong possibility it had come from her father, on Asgard, but Loki made no indication that he recognized the tool.

With a flick of her wrist, the staff expanded, and as she struck it on the ground beside her, it emitted a lash of amber energy. Loki eyed it with minimal interest. He remained ever-nonchalant, and strode confidently toward her with such assurance that Riley almost stepped away.

“Such a pity,” he cooed, drawing nearer. "And here I thought you  _might_ just be worth something, without me having to do this."

Loki relished in the "deer-caught-in-the-headlights" look that she shot him, her eyes stretched wide.  With one swift jab, he directed the scepter tip against her chest, where her heart resided.

Riley uttered a shaky gasp.  _What's he doing?_ She stood, paralyzed, as she watched the faint blue light travel from the tip of the scepter, into her body. She could feel a sort of _chill_ overcome her body, freezing her blood to ice, but at the same time, there was a distinctive _warmth_ in her veins. Weird.

 _Ooohhhhhh,_ Valek groaned; _that_ couldn’t be a good sign. Riley’s eyes darted back down to the scepter, where waves of blue undulated forth, crashing into her chest. She felt a swell of magic course through the length of her body, heady and intoxicating, clouding her thoughts with a pleasant fog. Power—foreign power, not Valek’s, not even her own Asgardian magic—washed over her body and mind, seeping into her, binding itself with her—

The power abruptly ceased.

Riley blinked three times, feeling oddly as though she had _lost_ something. And she wanted—no, _needed_ it back!

When the haze of blue cleared from her eyes, she saw Loki gaping back at her, making no attempt to mask his bemusement, his blue _(blue again?)_ eyes scanning her from head to toe, calculatingly.

“What the _fuck_ was that, Megamind?” Riley growled, immediately putting some distance between them. “What did you do to me?”

Honestly, Loki couldn’t say. That was certainly different…The scepter had malfunctioned before, and simply didn’t work when he attempted to use it on the man of Iron. But with Riley, it seemed to be…going _into_ him. It was like he was sucking the power of the stone into himself.

Without awaiting a reply, Riley charged Loki, submerging him in a cloud of obsidian shadows that swelled from her hands. She caught him off-guard, managing to knock the wind out of him, but he recovered with haste. He rolled out of the way, returning the blow with another swipe of his scepter, catching her under her legs and knocking her down.

"My my, you're just  _full_ of surprises, aren't you?"

But Riley was distracted. _What the hell **was** that, _Valek? she queried mentally, only half paying attention as she struck her staff at him, narrowly missing his shoulder.

 _An Infinity Stone,_ Valek sighed blissfully in reply. _Get it from him, won't you? I can absorb its power into my own, Riley…What a **wonderful** discovery!_

No…If Valek wanted it, it could only mean bad news. If his power increased, it would likely mean that she would have an even harder time maintaining control over him.

 _Aggh, details, details!_ Valek groaned. _Who cares? Didn’t it feel **good?** You’ve only opened my first gate of power, you know...Don’t you want more? You could stop Loki, save the world with a snap of your fingers. Think of how easy it would be. No more unnecessary deaths, Riley. No more._

It killed her how easily Valek could manipulate her. But she’d managed to deflect his commentary for this long, and she could do it again.

And so she went for Loki again, trying to channel all of her energy into stopping him. But Loki knew better; he wasn’t a fool. With the other Avengers, he had the advantage of knowledge, of weaknesses, of what made them _tick_. But with Riley, he had nothing. If he underestimated his powers, he might be in for some trouble. Therefore, when Riley paused to gawk out the window, seeing the gateway to the Chitauri military base open, he took advantage of her being distracted.

Riley gaped up at the flood of aliens as they exploded from the portal like ants, swarming in all directions to inflict their rage upon innocent civilians. Just as she turned to confront Loki, she found herself suddenly alone. She jerked her head from left to right, just barely catching a glimpse of Loki catching a ride on one of the Chitauri spacecrafts.

“Oh, bloody hell!” Riley let forth a string of swears. Great, just great. Now she’d lost Loki, _and_ there were _aliens_ raining down from the sky.

 _It’s raining men_ , Valek sang cheerfully in her ear _. Hallelujah—_

_“Shut the hell up!”_

Riley hurried to the edge of Stark Towers, where the glass had been shattered only minutes before, contracting the staff back to its smaller size and stowing it in her pocket. She leapt out, skidding down the side of the building, and landed in front of the huge, flaring light of the portal. Was there a way to shut it down? Everything had an on and off switch, and this could be no exception. She’d just—

Riley’s heart skidded to a halt. Standing beside the gateway, with a pen in her teeth and a clipboard clutched in her hands, was the one person Riley had been wanting to see more than anyone else—and _avoid,_ frankly. But the latter was no longer an option at this point.

“Quinn,” she breathed, her breath hitching.

Agent Quinn Howarth’s head popped up from her work, pale, unseeing eyes somehow locking onto Riley. She was a petite blonde woman, thin and of average height, donned in a too-big white lab coat that sagged off her shoulders.

Riley’s past with Quinn was… _complicated,_ to say the least. Back when Riley was taken from foster care, when she was stolen away by the _Workshop_ (a shudder wracked her form at the mere thought of it), she met Quinn. They were both victims of the cruelty of the organization, a small unit in the Workshop called “The Atelier.” Quinn had befriended her during their time there, and was brutally blinded as a part of her mutation.

It was how she earned her “superhero” name—The Flying Fox. Quinn had undergone painful mutations and experimentation that gave her wings like the Little Red Flying Fox bat. She was fittingly blind, but had a power she liked to call “echolocation,” for lack of a better term; in reality, it was more of a sensory power that, if she focused hard enough, allowed her to sense shapes and auras.

The details of Quinn’s past are…not yet necessary to explain.

What really mattered was that, for years, Riley thought Quinn was dead. After Riley had gone to great lengths to burn down the facility and everyone in it, she wrongly assumed Quinn had perished in its wreckage. Instead, Quinn had been found and taken in by none other than Director Fury. This proved to be a challenge when he recruited Riley, and as a part of their deal, Quinn was never to know of Riley’s existence. She was a significant tie to a past that Riley had attempted to burn, and interacting with her would only dredge up horrors she now only saw in her sleep.

But enough was enough. Quinn had been her first and only friend during that time, her support and her companion. It was only fair that the girl know of Riley’s existence, even if it brought up some unpleasant truths.

“Yes?” Quinn asked, pale, empty eyes darting back and forth. “Who are you?”

 _Yikes,_ that stung more than Riley would have thought. She was using her normal voice, but even then, it wasn’t like Quinn would recognize her. They’d been kids before, after all.

“Uhh, one second.” Feeling about as terrible as any person could when about to knock a blind girl upside the head, Riley rushed forward, gripped the woman by the shoulders and back of her neck, and promptly slammed her forehead into the nearest metal railing.

Quinn uttered a sharp cry as her head made contact, and Riley winced at the sound. She lifted the girl back up gingerly, but it was hard to tell if she was herself or not; her eyes hadn’t changed color with the Infinity Stone, so only words would tell whether she was still under Loki’s control or not.

“Owww,” the girl moaned, reaching up to tentatively brush a few fingers to her temple. “What… _what?_ What’s going on? Who…?”

“The Brown Recluse,” Riley greeted, sighing in relief. “And we’re in the middle of a battle against a bunch of aliens, so…Sorry about that.”

Quinn shook her head as hard as she dared. “No, no—I remember everything—just…like, through a fishbowl or something.” She regarded Riley uncertainly, a frown pulling at her lips. “The Brown Recluse? I thought you were a male?”

Oh, right. She was using her _Riley_ voice. “Uh…yeah, no. And by the way, my name is actually Riley Harrow.” She coughed awkwardly. “So, I’ll, uh, just let that sink in…” Riley stood, backing away with a sheepish smile.

“What?” Quinn only stared. Riley wasn’t exactly great at delivering news, good or bad—and maybe sharing the fact that she was a long-lost friend who was thought to be dead wasn’t the best thing to bring up in the middle of a literal _warzone,_ after the girl had just come out of Loki’s mind control, but eh, she never claimed to be good at people skills.

“Riley Harrow," she repeated. A lump collected in her throat, and Quinn startled with a flinch as a Chitauri aircraft soared by overhead. “Do you remember me?”

“What?” Quinn said again. Those white eyes narrowed, then her brows raised, then fell again, as though she were working something out in her head. “Riley? Wh…no, you’re dead. A-aren’t…you?”

“Nope.” Riley gently gripped her by the arm, helping her to her feet. “And, uh…we’re kind of in the middle of a huge _War of the Worlds_ situation right now, so—”

“No, no, _wait.”_ Vexation crossed the blonde’s pretty face now, her jaw clenching. “Are you being serious right now? Like _, actually_ serious? You’re telling me that—”

Riley took Quinn’s hand, and forced it upon her own wrist, allowing her fingertips to brush over the scars there. They were faded to the point where they were no more than in distinctive white smudges, but Quinn knew braille well, and could no doubt feel the number imprinted there.

 _“Yes,”_ Riley answered in a hushed tone, only loud enough to be heard among the commotion ensuing below. “It’s me. Good ol’ Riley and her pal Valek.”

Quinn uttered a dry sob, and flung her arms around Riley’s neck. Taken off-guard, Riley simply stood there with her arms in the air, unsure of what to do with them. _Put them around her,_ dummy. But just as Riley made to hug her back, Quinn abruptly parted from her, glowered, and promptly slapped Riley across the face. It had more weight to it than Riley expected, and she staggered back from the impact, stunned.

“You _bitch!”_ Quinn cried, tears streaming down her now-pastel-pink cheeks. “Y-you—you knew I was alive, and—and you worked with SHIELD, and you—and you _never_ _told me?”_ She raised a hand to strike her again, but Riley caught her by the wrist.

“Quinn, I’m so sorry. Really, I am.” And she was. She _really_ was. She’d thought it would be better for Quinn, to simply let her go on living, and not serve as a reminder for what she had endured as a child. But the more she let this thought sink in, the more it occurred to her that she was doing it for _herself,_ out of fear of returning to a time long since passed. “I’m _so_ , so sorry. I just—I didn’t want to hurt you. Or myself. I don’t know. It seems stupid now.”

 _Well isn’t this just **peachy** ,_ Valek drawled, voice dense with sarcasm. _Heartwarming, truly._

“Why didn’t Fury tell me?” Quinn simpered, wiping her weeping eyes on her arm. “He tells me everything. How did you get him to…to _lie_ to me? To his _daughter_?”

Daughter? Riley could hardly picture Director Badass having a daughter, but she supposed that was the proper term, since he’d technically adopted Quinn. “We had an agreement. I’d join SHIELD and do missions, and he’d…bury everything.” Riley shook her head. “But _seriously!_ We’re in the middle of a fucking war! Can we _please_ have this conversation later?”

Still miffed, but a true agent through and through, Quinn rubbed at her eyes and nodded curtly. “Fine. But you’re the one who had to bring it up after giving me a concussion.”

Riley couldn’t argue with that. But true to her word, Quinn joined Riley at her side as they made for the nearest stairs, throwing themselves into battle. Riley had heard Fury praise Quinn several times before, but she’d figured he was merely fluffing his own feathers. But now, as the blonde shifted into fighting mode, Riley saw that Fury wasn’t just barking up his own tree.

Quinn’s massive, reddish bat wings snapped forth from her back, flapping hard as they carried her in front of a huddle of pedestrians. She moved with the grace of a dancer—only someone essentially _raised_ by Nick Fury could move like that—and entangled her legs around a Chitauri neck, promptly _snapping_ it to the side with a sickening _CRACK!_

Fury said she moved by sound, mostly. She had an acute awareness of objects around her, and a keen sense of sound developed from years of hard training. Pressing two fingers to her temple, she maintained a strong focus, allowing her to use her “echolocation,” as she was fond of calling it, to pick apart Chitauri crafts in the air.

 _“Damn_ , what happened to that skinny little kid?” Riley hollered as she enclosed a group of Chitauri in a mass of shadows, closing in on their group until they quite literally exploded.

“I could say the same of you,” Quinn shot back, still sounding a bit pissed as she took to the air, wings pumping furiously.

Now they had reached the area of the street where the other Avengers fought, already dirtied and mussed up from battle.

"Having fun yet?" Riley hollered at Steve. He wielded his shield like a weapon, knocking four Chitauri warriors in a row off of their feet, before turning around to look at her.

"Tremendous amounts. Any chance you want to help out here?"

"There might be." Side-by-side, they battled back and forth against the oncoming aliens, with their backs to each other, rotating in a circle. It seemed as though every second another one dropped from the sky, as though they were raining down on them, and Riley had to make her energy blasts larger and larger in order to fend them off. She lifted various heavy objects up off of the ground, using them as shields to protect herself or as weapons, hitting them upside the head and knocking them out cold.

Natasha and Barton joined them shortly after they'd cleared out a good chunk of the ones on the ground area, although more were flooding in every second. Quinn moved about them like she had been there all along, and accepted a high-five from Barton as he passed.

 _"Stark, are you seeing this?"_ Riley heard Steve's voice in her earpiece. She turned slightly to glance back, just as a giant airship-monster-thing ( _what the hell?_  she thought), much like a massive flying worm, soared through the portal, accompanied by more warriors.

"That's...a big one," Riley commented, gawking up at it.

“What’s a big one?” Quinn landed in a skid beside Riley, rubbing two fingers along her forehead and squinting before adding, “Wait, what? What _is_ that?”

 _"I'm seeing, still working on believing. Where's Banner? Has he shown up yet?"_ Tony echoed back.

_"Banner?"_

_"Just keep me posted."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's a bit of an Easter Egg in here; the weapon Riley uses is the Staff of the Living Tribunal. This goes a little canon-divergent, but for my story, there are two Staffs. They're called the Twin Staffs of The Living Tribunal, and Riley is in possession of one of the twins. We'll find out later how she came to own it, but I wanted to go ahead and explain what it was up-front.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a particularly significant or exciting chapter, but still necessary. Don't forget to leave a comment!

Riley ducked as Steve swung his shield over her head, taking out an entire row of Chitauri warriors advancing on them.

"Nice one," Riley commented, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her forearm.

"Thanks." Steve's broad chest heaved with effort, his narrowed eyes taking in the wreckage around them. "There's more coming up on your left, Harrow."

"There's more coming up  _everywhere,"_ Riley corrected, allowing more energy to surge from the center of her body to her wrists.

_"Watch out!"_

Riley and Steve dropped hastily onto their hands and knees, just in time as Clint shot an explosive arrow over their heads, knocking out a trio of warriors that were sneaking up on them from behind. Riley rolled to the side, putting her weight in her hands to force herself back to her feet.

"What we need to do is get these people out of here." Steve indicated the screaming crowds of civilians with a nod of his head, watching them flee the area in a manner similar to ants scrambling around in a rainstorm.

"Why don't you go alert the cops over there?" Riley suggested, firing the energy collected in her palms at the nearest window. As the glass showered down, she directed the fragments to begin pelting at the Chitauri, resulting in angry shrieks. "Maybe they can help direct people to safety."

"Good idea. You think you guys can hold them off?"

Clint smirked. "Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure."

As Steve sprinted toward the police, Riley continued to control the various objects from the rubble around her, simultaneously taking aim at alien creatures with her energy blasts and shadow-tinted magic. She fought hard, coiling the phone cords from telephone booths around them and, ever so often, using actual kicks and punches to defend herself--but she wasn't the most fit agent, and therefore relied mostly on her magic.

It felt somehow…natural, fighting alongside Quinn, almost as though all of these years apart hadn’t even mattered. Riley had observed her from afar for a couple of years now, purposely avoiding missions in which she’d be paired with the girl, but now that they were back together again, it seemed that they had never parted. Whether Quinn felt the same way, she couldn’t say for certain. It would most likely take some time for her to warm up to her again.

Steve didn't return for another few minutes, and by the time he leapt back into their group, Riley already had a split lip and various bruises going up and down her limbs.

"They're evacuating," said Steve as he re-joined them, shield in hand.

"Good. Then we just need to--wait, what's that?" Something crimson rocketed through the sky, heading straight for where the heroes gathered. Riley spread her feet, preparing for whatever new Alien-Predator-District 9-Bullshit was about to attack, but as the figure grew closer, her jaw dropped. "Thor!" Thor crashed into the street feet-first, the impact punching a massive crater into the concrete. Hammer raised and bearded face colored by rage, he truly did look like an ancient warrior. "Oh man, thank god--er, gods?--you're alive!" Riley knew he couldn't have died from the fall from the ship—he was too powerful to be killed by that. But still, it helped ease the majority of her guilt to see that he was okay, all things considered.

"The powers surrounding the cube are impenetrable," Thor growled without answering her, and Riley sincerely hoped his ill mood had nothing to do with the fact that she hadn't bothered to try and find him. "Riley?" he added quizzically, blond eyebrows springing upward as he gave her an unblinking once-over. "You're a woman?"

"Yeah, uh...we can talk about that later."

Natasha sighed. "How do we do this?"

"As a team," said Steve.

"Well, I think we already had that much figured out."

"I have unfinished business with Loki," said Thor, with a lip-curl as he fingered the blood on his chest.

Clint snorted. "Yeah, well get in line."

"Please wait for your ticket number to be called, for your turn to strangle that jackass," Riley remarked sarcastically, clenching her teeth together.

"Save it. Loki's gonna keep this fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him these things could run wild. We got Stark up top, he's gonna need us..." Steve broke off suddenly, staring straight ahead of him.

Riley followed his line of sight to see Dr. Banner pulling up on a motorcycle, looking sufficiently battered but thankfully human now, and otherwise okay.

"Dr. Banner!" said Riley, grinning. She knew in the back of her mind he'd be fine falling from the height he did as the Hulk, but part of her was still worried that something might have gone wrong.

"So, this all seems...horrible,” Bruce remarked.

"Understatement of the year," said Riley.

Natasha shrugged. "I've seen worse."

"Sorry."

"No...we could use a little worse."

"Good to see you not...green," Riley commented. Her last memory of him charging at her and Natasha straight on flickered through her mind.

"Good to see you not...uh, female," Dr. Banner countered. “So...you're a girl now?" 

"Yup."

"Oh. Okay. Who’s this?” Bruce added, nodding at Quinn.

“Agent Quinn Howarth,” Riley introduced on her behalf. “We can exchange pleasantries later.”

"Stark, we got him, Banner, just like you said," said Steve into his earpiece.

_"Tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you."_

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Riley, but her question was immediately answered. Tony, equipped in his Iron Man suit, flew around the corner of a building, seemingly alone and calm, but in the next second, a giant worm-like Chitauri materialized there as well, in hot pursuit of him.

Riley took an involuntary step back, knowing full well that they were cornered; on this tiny stretch of street, they would have no other choice but to fight it.

"I...don't see how that's a party," Natasha mumbled.

"Uh, Dr. Banner," said Steve, his eyes tracking Tony and the worm as they drew closer, "now might be a good time for you to get angry."

Dr. Banner simply waltzed straight at the creature, smirking over his shoulder back at them as he did so. "That's my secret, Captain. I'm always angry." Without another word, Dr. Banner transformed in the blink of an eye into the enormous green monster, losing his upper clothing in tattered shreds. He smashed the giant worm with one enormous fist, stopping the creature in its tracks as he skidded back, sending concrete spewing in all directions. The mechanical worm skidded to a halt against the Hulk's weight, then fell limply to the side in a dead heap.

“What just happened?” Quinn yelped. The Hulk let out a triumphant roar, rumbling around them like thunder and shaking the ground. The sensation was probably terrifying for the blind woman, who held her arms out at her sides for balance.

“Uhhh, the guy you just met turned into a huge green monster, that’s all.”

Quinn blinked. “You know what, I just…I shouldn't even be surprised.”

"Guys," said Natasha. Everyone followed her apprehensive gaze, up, up, up far into the sky, where the portal spun in a dark cloud, allowing a train of the worm-creatures and more Chitauri warriors to spill through.

"Well that's not good," said Riley.

_"Call it, Captain."_

"Alright, listen up. Until we can close that portal up there, we're gonna use containment. Barton, I want you on that roof, eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays. Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or your turn it to ash."

Clint nodded as Tony landed beside him, brushing dust and clutter from his suit.

"Wanna give me a lift?" he suggested to Tony.

"Right. Better clench up, Legolas." Tony took hold of Clint, rose into the air, and took off up to the top of the building to drop him off.

"Thor, you've gotta try and bottleneck that portal, slow them down. You've got the lightning, light the bastards up." Thor nodded. Steve turned to Natasha. "You and me, we stay here on the ground, keep the fighting here. Riley...er, Harrow," he corrected, looking to Riley next. "Find out where Loki got off to and slow him down. And Hulk..."

The Hulk jerked his head toward him with an almost inquisitive-like snarl.

"...Smash."

A wide, mischievous grin spread across the Hulk's face and he took off running, leaping up toward the side of one of the buildings to begin his attack on the Chitauri warriors there.

“Uh, Howarth—go with the Hulk,” Steve concluded, at a loss for what to do with the new team member. He seemed a bit uncertain about ordering her around, but Quinn complied without protest, taking flight as she joined the Hulk at one of the upper floors of the building.

"Of course. Pin Riley with Loki again," said Riley, narrowing her eyes at Steve. "Are you _trying_  to get me killed?"

"He hasn't killed you yet," Steve reasoned.

"Yeah, don't send anyone like his brother or something to do it," Riley muttered under her breath as she turned her back on them to begin her search about the city for Loki.  _"That_  would just make too much sense."

It didn't take any time at all to find Loki; after all, as Tony had said, he was like a diva, and this was in fact his party. What would be the point in not standing out? He was riding atop one of the hover boards, leaning back casually on the seat, his gaze fixed forward. The hard part was not finding him, though; it was keeping up with him and finding a way up to his ship.

As she ran to keep up with the ship from below, she debated how to go about her attack...He was only looking ahead, but it would be foolish to think that he would not see her coming from the side. Loki's vehicle took several sharp turns every so often, making it difficult for Riley to stay on track behind him. He did not have his scepter on hand with him (g _ood. Let's test out how strong he is without his precious toy,_  Riley thought), and he seemed fairly relaxed, but he had one hand on some sort of button on the hover board, using it to shoot bright beams of light at his targets.

After another moment of deliberation, Riley used her levitation on a demolished, abandoned Honda, climbing atop it so she could ride it after his hover board. It worked smoothly (well...it worked, anyway. It lost one of its wheels and some broken pieces on the way up), and she jerked it upward after Loki. Either he really did not see her there or chose to look the other way, but whichever it was, Riley took the opportunity to make the best of it. She caught up swiftly from behind, grabbed hold of the back of the hover board, and released the car, letting it fall from her powers' grasp and crash far below. The sound was loud, yet among the various other battle sounds coming from every direction, it did not strike Loki's attention.

Loki was too preoccupied anyway; he was shooting violently at something in front of him, clearly missing, as he kept repeatedly taking aim. Riley peered over his shoulder silently, searching for his target: Natasha. She had climbed aboard another one of the flying vehicles, maneuvering it back and forth to avoid Loki's attacks.

Now, she could either be sneaky and clever about it and climb under the ship, undoing some wires and cables till the ship did not run any longer, or...

"Surprise!" Riley sprung out from the back of the hover board, knocking Loki forward into the dashboard (or...at least, she assumed that's what it was called) from behind. He whirled around, his viridian eyes alarmed.

Loki's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the half-blood behind him, and he resisted the urge to show any sign of pain; her kick, elementary as the action was, had actually quite _hurt._ Her own brown eyes were firing icy daggers into him. Perhaps, with the proper wording, he could work this to his own advantage.

"I just can't seem to shake you, can I?" Loki sneered.

"Yeah, I'm a bit like a leach," Riley replied with a shrug. "It's okay. I get that a lot."

But Loki was not the only passenger on board; one of the Chitauri warriors was actually managing the ship, and he had now taken over the duty of shooting at Natasha, trying to knock her off of her own hover board.

"So, since you're currently scepter-less and I have the upper hand, we can do this one of two ways," said Riley, cracking her knuckles menacingly; what she really wanted was to gain control of the ship, to re-direct it away from Natasha so that she could travel to the portal safely. "You can either surrender here and now, praying I won't kick your arse too hard later, or...I can kick your arse too hard now. What's it gonna be?"

"Hm. I choose three."

And in one swift move, Loki darted forward at her, before she could so much as blink, gripping the fabric of her mask in his fist and tearing it aside. The movement knocked her goggles askew as well, revealing the entirety of her face to his. It was only visible for a moment, however, before her hood fell forward over her eyes, blocking her view of him.

Taken off-guard, Riley fumbled to move the hood from her eyes, giving Loki the exact opportunity he'd needed.

Now that they were inches away from each other, Loki took advantage of her split-second hesitation and lack of sight, knocking her roughly backwards so that she fell hard on the ship's floor. She let out a pained gasp as her back made contact with the ground. Before she could right herself, Loki placed one boot firmly over her chest, pinning her down, and held out his hand a few inches away from her face.

Loki's hand glowed a faint robin’s egg color, and she could feel a frigorific chill emitting from it.

"Not very clever, are you?" He smirked. "The scepter is not my only means of protection, Harrow," he whispered, as the blue tint traveled from his hand up his arm.

Oh, right. Magic.

Well, this was a fine mess she was in.

Now that she was on her back, her hood had fallen back, leaving her face naked to behold. Her mousy brown hair had become disheveled from the struggle, and she indignantly blew a strand out of her face. Well, _this_ was certainly unexpected. How had this woman managed to mask her voice so well? It never even occurred to Loki that there could be a _female_ underneath the layers. She looked to be about as average (or even below) in aesthetic appeal as a Midgardian could possibly be, and her chubby face indicated her figure was probably less than impressive, but there was a certain… _realness_ to her that gave him pause. Plain as she was, something intrigued him--perhaps something beneath the surface, something not seen by the naked eye. His dark brows knit together.

Something about the look in Loki’s eye brought dusty pink color to Riley’s cheeks. Whereas with everyone else, her reveal had been less than impressive, Loki was scrutinizing her in an entirely different manner, those jewel-worthy eyes scouring the length of her face. Discomfiting? A little. But she had to admit, she wasn’t expecting a _god_ of all people to be the one to demonstrate the greatest reaction at her identity.

 _"Clint!"_  said a slightly anxious voice in Riley's earpiece—now that she was on the ground of the ship, she could no longer see Natasha, but she could hear the blasts firing from the Chitauri warrior tracking her.

 _"Nat, what are you doing?"_ Clint demanded back.

_"Uh, a little help here?"_

There was a moment's pause.  _"Riley, are you aboard Loki's ship?"_

Riley's eyes danced about, but it was hard to see over Loki's looming figure. She could only assume Clint was somewhere nearby, but the thought did not comfort her; she looked pretty damn helpless, lying on the ground under Loki's boot.

"Um. Well, yeah," Riley mumbled back, avoiding Loki's eyes.

_"Think you'll be all right if I take aim at Loki?"_

"What, with one of your arrows?" said Riley, lowering her voice to a whisper, in the hopes that Loki would not catch on. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? You're a damn good shot, I know you won't accidentally hit me."

To this, Clint merely answered her with,  _"I got him."_

From seemingly out of nowhere, an arrow shot through the sky, piercing through the howling air. It bolted straight for Loki's face, but in the last half-second, he reached his free hand up and caught it with the nonchalant demeanor of sipping tea. Loki's smirk widened as he turned from Riley to face Clint, with an all-too cocky expression as if to say, "Really?"

Riley barely heard the beeping before the arrow detonated, exploding violently. She felt the weight on her stomach release, and went tumbling blindly, seeing nothing but flashes of daylight and blurred images. There was a shattering sound, followed by a ringing in her ears that caused her vision to blacken momentarily.


	7. Chapter 7

Coughing, Riley weakly pulled herself into a sitting position, blinking debris from her eyes. Tiny glass shards pierced her arms and legs, and she winced as her movement caused them to sting more; it was going to be a _real bitch_ to pluck them all out later.

 _"Sorry, Harrow,"_ said Clint in her earpiece.

"Yeah, was there no way you could have warned me in advance about that little detail?" Riley groaned back, wiping a bubble of fresh blood from her lip.

_"Well, are you all right?"_

"I'll survive..." Riley tilted her head slightly for a better look around the wreckage. A green-caped figure lay also covered in glass and slightly bloodied, but otherwise unscathed. It rose steadily to its feet, shooting her a look that suggested she had been the one that shot the explosive arrow at the ship.

"What, Doctor Who?" she snapped, wincing as she sat upright. "Upset that your plan's falling apart?"

"On the contrary," Loki sneered, dusting off the front of his armor as he stalked toward her, "it's only begun. You underestimate the number of Chitauri warriors at my disposal."

"Hey-hey-hey, back it up," Riley warned him, struggling to get to her feet and put some distance between them. Shadowy magic flourished around her upper body, flickering like dark flames.

“Ah yes, I _was_ meaning to ask about that,” he replied, smiling pleasantly. “Your magic, I mean…It doesn’t seem altogether… _Asgardian_ in its form.”

The manner in which she conjured those shadows and manipulated dark matter, the altogether foreign and almost _bitter_ taste of its aura…None of Riley’s magic struck Loki as Asgardian power, which he was well-versed in. In his youth, he’d cultivated every known form of Asgardian magic he could get his hands on, perusing Asgard’s libraries as he fed himself eons of knowledge. Therefore, he found it difficult to accept the fact that this woman was half-Asgardian.

“Well, it is,” Riley huffed, almost defensively.

“If it is, then it’s _tainted_ somehow. From whom did you learn it?”

“I…taught myself.”

 _Oh, Riley, but you’ve had **such** a good teacher._ _Give credit where credit’s’ due, no?_ Valek was encircling Loki now, amber eyes lidded as they indolently raked over the other man’s body. _Ironic, isn’t it, that he would accuse **our** magic of being something impure? I mean, it **is** , of course—it’s my own personal brand—but I find it amusing that a **Jotun** of all beings would talk of impurities.  _

“You cannot lie to the _God of Lies_ , dear,” Loki chuckled, surprisingly calm for a guy in the middle of _losin_ g a galactic war.

 _A Jotun?_ Riley’s nose wrinkled _. What the hell is that?_

“You never did give my previous offer much consideration.”

 _A Frost Giant. What, you’ve **really** never heard of Jotunheim?_   Exasperation colored Valek’s tone. _You really don’t know **anything,** do you?_

“It would just be…a little exchange of information, you know. All harmless.”

_Yeah, well apparently knowledge isn’t everything, since I’ve managed to keep you bound to me for so long._

“You tell me about your magic, and I tell you about your heritage. Seem fair?”

_Ahh, you’re so **cute** when you’re cocky. You’ll give in eventually, Riley. Everyone does at one point or another._

“Are you even listening to me?”

Riley’s conversation with Valek popped from her mind like a bubble. Re-focusing her vision, she found Loki standing across from her with his arms folded firmly across his chest, viridian eyes narrowed in a glower, his prominent jaw set and thin lips pressed together.

“Sorry, no, I actually wasn’t. What were you saying?”

Apparently, that was not the reply he was looking for.

Loki rushed her then, charging with voluminous waves of green energy _pulsing_ from his fists. His attack caught her off-guard, so she didn’t have enough time to react properly, her instinctual reaction being to merely _stare_ like a fly being met with a swatter.

A monstrous roar rippled through the air, and just before Loki reached Riley, the god was thrown back as the Hulk smashed through the only un-broken window on the tower, tackling Loki like a deranged football player. Loki was sent soaring backward, and the Hulk skidded on massive bare feet, coming to a halt in the middle of the room. He turned his huge face on Riley, nostrils flaring chest heaving, and she felt as though she had shrunk about twenty feet.

“Oh, uh…hey, Bruc—I mean, Hulk. Thanks.”

He merely grunted in reply.

 _"Enough!"_   Loki had, amazingly, gotten back to his feet, positively fuming now. "You are all of you beneath me! I am God, you dull creature, and I will not be bullied by—"

The Hulk promptly seized Loki by the leg and began to smash him violently against the floor, repeatedly, back and forth, then tossed him aside to the ground. The impact crushed the tiling beneath him, leaving a Loki-sized dent behind in the floor.

The Hulk snorted as he turned away, all but disgusted with Loki’s verbal assault. _"Puny god.”_ Virtually ignoring Riley, he thrust himself back out the window, proceeding to return into the line of fire.

Riley let out a low whistle. “ _Oof._ Wouldn’t want to be on _his_ bad side.” Her eyes darted down to Loki. “I mean, _ouch,_ right? That looks like it really hurt.”

Loki's eyes shifted to look at her, filled with a combination of hatred and pain, but he either was too shocked to say anything, or simply _couldn't._

"Now, the question is, do I need to sit here and babysit you, or are you going to stay down there like a _good little god,_ so Mum can go beat up more of your friends?" said Riley.

If looks could kill, Riley would have imploded on the spot. Loki's cracked, bleeding lips parted to say something, but Riley's earpiece suddenly buzzed. Turning away from him, she switched it back to 'on.'

It was Natasha.  _"I can close it! Can anybody hear me? I can shut the portal down!"_

 _"Do it!"_   Steve’s voice ordered

 _"No, wait!"_ Tony yelled back.

_"Stark, these things are still coming!"_

_"I got a nuke coming in, it's gonna blow in less than a minute...And I know just where to put it."_

Riley frowned. "Wait, Tony, what do you mean? What are you doing?"

But Tony didn't answer her. Riley gave Loki one last look (he was still lying in the same position, not looking like he would be going anywhere anytime soon), then fled to the window. She sprang out onto the ledge where Natasha stood next to the portal, landing on all fours beside the redhead. She was holding the scepter up at the power source, just barely holding back from piercing the billowing blue fumes.

"Harrow," Natasha acknowledged. She was pretty badly bruised and scuffed up, but none the worse for wear.

“Romanoff. What’s Stark doing? Have you seen him?”

Natasha needn’t answer. In that next second, Iron Man rocketed past them, gripping a large white missile in his hands. As Riley watched in horror, he re-directed it in an upward trajectory, toward the entrance of the portal.

"Oh no," said Riley, bringing one hand up to cover her mouth. "He isn't doing what I think he's doing...is he?"

"I don't know what _you're_ thinking," said Natasha, "but _I'm_ thinking this might be the last time we see him.”

 _"Stark, you know that's a one way trip,"_   Steve pointed out.

Tony didn't answer him. Instead, he said,  _"Give Rock of Ages one last kick for me, all right, Winn-Dixie?"_

Riley knew right away that he was referring to her. “Give it to him yourself.” He’d be fine, right? Couldn’t he just…let go of the missile, and return back down? Or would the lack of gravity and space’s atmosphere power down his suit?

And Tony disappeared into the portal, vanishing from sight. Natasha hesitated, holding the scepter poised to attack the portal. Riley could only silently pray, doing her best to ignore the influx of taunts from Valek.

There was the faintest _BLAM!_   that could only be the work of the missile, and Steve yelled,  _"Close it!"_

"No, don't!" Riley cried out. "Are you crazy? We can't just leave him there!"

"There's no other way, we need to close the gate."

"Bullshit, Cap! Don't do this!"

But Natasha gave the portal one last fleeting look, seemed to decide that Steve's word was what she'd go with, and jabbed the scepter at the power source. The gateway slowly began to close in on itself, and the hole from which everything kept entering through shrunk, smaller and smaller, cutting off the Chitauri's way in

"NO!" Utterly helpless, Riley could only watch, furious with Cap for not waiting, even if she understood his intentions. It was Tony, or New York, but she couldn't help but feel that they could've waited a moment longer.

Even so, at the last second, just as the open gap snapped completely shut overhead, a red-and-gold figure plummeted out.

"Stark!" she called out, beyond relieved. There wouldn't be another Coulson weighing on her chest, at least not toay. "Oh man, how's that for last-minute?"

 _"Sun of a gun,"_  said Steve.

Natasha shook her head, also smiling now. "Leave it to Stark to—"

 _"He's not slowing down!"_ Thor interrupted. Riley looked back and, sure enough, Tony continued to fall at a rapid pace. Evidently he'd been knocked out...or _worse._

"Thor, Steve!" Riley shouted into her earpiece, no doubt hurting their eardrums. "One of you stop him before—"

But just as Tony was halfway down the side of one of the many destroyed buildings, Quinn came flying out of absolutely nowhere, just barely managing to catch him in her arms. She appeared to struggle with his weight, face scrunched up from the effort, but the woman managed to slowly pump her wings downward, carrying him to one of the ruined city streets. Riley skidded down the side of the building with Natasha in hot pursuit, jumped about seven feet away from the ground, and staggered over to Tony's side, kneeling down at his head. His mask had been removed.

"Stark? Stark, can you hear me?" Rilley gave his side a rough shake. "Stark, hey! Don't you  _dare_ be dead, come on..."

But Tony's face remained blank, lifeless, his eyes shut tight.

“Guys,” Quinn murmured, checking his pulse. “I don’t think—”

The Hulk leaned down, brushing Quinn surprisingly gently aside, and gave another tremendous roar _right into_ Tony’s ear.

Tony startled heavily in shock, his eyes snapping open at the sound. _"Whoa!_ What the hell? What just happened?"

A collective laugh rang out among the group, and Riley finally relaxed, collapsing on her hands and knees. _They had done it._

"Please tell me nobody kissed me?"

"I did," said Riley.

 _"What?"_   Tony demanded, horrified brown eyes darting up to meet hers.

"Chill out," Riley laughed again, grinning. "I was just kidding. No worries."

Tony relaxed. "Oh, thank god. Don't even joke like that, Old Yeller."

"Who cares? We won," Riley breathed out, sighing as the realization of her words settled in. They _won._

"Alright. Hey, alright! Good job, guys. Let's...just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it."

Riley rolled her eyes, but the idea of food was _very_ tempting to her empty stomach. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten something.

"We're not finished yet," said Thor, indicating Stark Tower with a nod.

"…And then shawarma after," said Tony determinedly.

They returned back to Stark's penthouse, stepping around scatters of glass shards. Loki was only just now beginning to sit up, groaning softly in pain. He didn't notice the group for a moment as they crowded around him, all drawing their weapons.

With a great deal of effort, Loki turned to face them, not in the least bit surprised to see them all there.

"If it's all the same to you," he said quietly, managing an innocent half-smile, "I'll have that drink now."

Riley stifled a snorted laugh, to which the others flashed her a glare. "What? That was funny. I don't discriminate humor."

...

"So, I suppose this is where we say our goodbyes." Tony extended a hand to Riley, grinning behind his dark beard.

"I suppose,” she agreed, taking the handshake proudly.

"You know, for a British crossbreed mutant creature, you're not half bad."

"And I could say the same about you, Iron Ego," Riley countered. "But in all seriousness, you're not so bad. I see through the act, you know."

"What act? I really am arrogant." Even so, Riley swore his expression softened. "Take care, all right, Balto?"

"I will. And the same to you, Tony."

Riley moved to each Avenger in turn, saying her goodbyes. They were incredibly bittersweet—although she'd only known them for a short period of time, she’d come to actually enjoy the company of this band of misfits, and would be sad to see them go. Having become a bit of a recluse in recent years, she'd forgotten what it was like to enjoy the company of other people. Hopefully they'd keep in touch, but she wasn't about to hold her breath.

"Romanoff," said Riley, giving Natasha a short hug.

"Harrow," Natasha returned. "I hope to someday see you again at SHIELD, if at all possible."

“You will, I’m sure. Maybe even in the flesh,” she added, gesturing widely to her face. She had finally ditched the layers of clothing and masks in favor of casual attire, feeling that, if these weirdos could go around unmasked, then it probably wasn’t that big of a deal for her to do the same.

"Miss Harrow," said Steve, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder.

"I prefer Riley, ya old coot. Maybe sometime I'll come visit you, huh? Bring you up to speed on current pop culture?"

Steve nodded, and flashing her a pearly-white smile. "I'd like that."

Riley fist-bumped Clint Barton next, lingering longer than she had with the others. She had known of Hawkeye from SHIELD, but they never met on the job. Knowing of his strong reputation from the agency, it was a damn shame she hadn't gotten to know him better as himself, and not Mind-Control Client.

"Sorry we didn't exactly hit it off," said Clint, running a hand through his hair. "You know, because I wasn't _actually me_ for half of the time."

"That's all right. I'm sure I'll see you around SHIELD, if you're okay with that?"

"Fine by me."

Riley then shook hands with Dr. Banner, surprised to find that he was pretty engaged with talking to Quinn when she interrupted.

"It really was a pleasure to meet you, doctor. Both as you and as the 'Other Guy'."

Bruce smirked. "I find that second bit hard to believe, but thanks anyway."

"No, really. You saved all of our arses a few times back there. The Hulk ain't half bad--when he's on our side, anyway."

Finally, Riley made her way to Thor, but when she offered her hand for a shake, he seized it, planting a light kiss on the top of her knuckles.

"Um...th-thank you, I guess," Riley stammered; she had a feeling she'd never get used to that. "I hope your trip back to Asgard goes smoothly."

"About that," said Thor, releasing her hand. "If you’re at all interested, I would like to extend an offer for you to accompany me to Asgard.”

Riley balked, momentarily feeling she'd misheard him. "Wh...me? T-to Asgard? Why?"

Thor nodded, grinning at her reaction. "Yes. Why so shocked? I figured that you would want to visit your 'home planet,' considering you are half-Asgardian. It's only your birthright to see your family's roots."

Riley stammered, fumbling over her words. "I just...wow. Um, Asgard?”

"Yes.”

“Yes!”

Riley hadn’t known him for quite as long as the others, but she surprised them both by seizing him into a big bear-hug, absolutely _giddy_ with the idea of seeing her home planet—or _any_ planet apart from Earth, really. It wasn't everyday some alien-god-guy offered to take you to another world, and it was basically a geek's wet dream to see the stuff out of sci-fi novels. Thor was quick to return the gesture, lifting her quite literally off of her feet in a crushing hug of his own. "You will love it! Asgard is truly a realm like no other."

"I--look forward--to it," she gasped out in answer. "It's just, uh...quick trip, right? Few days maybe? Do I need to bring anything with me?"

"Oh no, we have plenty of food and clothing to accommodate you. No luggage necessary."

"Riley?"

Riley startled from the tap on her shoulder, shifting to the right to see Quinn standing behind her. Shit! She had let herself get completely swept up in the golden fantasy of Asgard, forgetting entirely about her long-lost, scorned and hurt friend.

What words could be said? “Hey, sorry about the whole pretending to be dead thing? Yikes, that was stupid?” What was she supposed to say under circumstances like these?”

“Hey, sorry about the whole pretending to be dead thing,” she recited, having come up with nothing better to say. “Yikes, that was stupid, huh?”

Quinn lunged at her again, and Riley prepared for the well-earned slap, only to find herself wrapped firmly in another hug. “You never changed,” she murmured against Riley’s shoulder, sniffling as she fought back tears.

“Is…is that a good thing?”

“Yes.” Quinn sighed into her hair, pulling back with the soft smile of a broken woman, a woman who’d done her best to glue back the shattered pieces—which was exactly what she was. Riley had always admired the blonde for a multitude of reasons, and it left a burning in the pit of her heart that Quinn still wanted to remain friends (or at least, that was the assumption).

“I’m, uh…going to Asgard, I guess,” Riley laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. “But when I get back…You wanna, like…catch up? Get coffee or something?”

Quinn only nodded, still wiping her eyes. It seemed that both women understood that this was not some empty promise.

And now…what? She was going to go gallivanting off to Asgard? It wasn’t like Riley had much going on here on Earth—few friends, no family to miss her. Fury would probably be pretty pissed when he found out she had skipped town, but it wasn’t like it would be a permanent arrangement. As for things to pack…Riley had very little to her name. Her weapon was already tucked in her pocket, and she imagined her stay there wouldn’t be too terrible long, so…

Riley turned back to Thor, offering him a hand, which he placed atop the Tesseract (which had been enclosed inside a tube of sorts). Beside them, Loki had been muzzled and bound like a wild animal—which seemed unnecessary, but Riley. wasn’t in the mood for his quips, and imagined that Thor wasn’t, either.  

"Why do you appear so apprehensive?" Thor asked her as she gripped the tube’s edge a bit too tightly. "You will be welcomed as a hero."

Loki rolled his eyes.  _A hero_ , he thought, scoffing internally at the idea.  _Why lie further to the girl? Asgard is no place for a mortal, let alone a half-breed._

"I really didn't do much, honestly," Riley insisted, but she was nevertheless beaming from head to foot.

Thor answered her in only a returned grin. At that moment, they were swept up into the Tesseract's billowing power, and the last thing that passed Riley's line of vision was Steve Rogers, climbing aboard his motorcycle and waving goodbye to her. A swirling sensation erupted in Riley, like a fluttering in her stomach. A blue-violet color engulfed the trio, and Riley felt her feet lift off of the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So, we're going to take some creative liberties here in Thor territory for a while/a few chapters, until Thor: The Dark World. We're going to get to see some of Riley's roots, and get a lil' more backstory. Hope you're all enjoying!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a REALLY short chapter, mostly because I'm cranking these out so quickly. Next one should be up pretty soon.

She shut her eyes tightly, as to avoid losing the shawarma she'd consumed, and within a few seconds, they returned to solid ground.

Riley inadvertently let go of the Tesseract, and she crumpled in a pile on the floor, winded.

"First time using teleportation?" Thor guessed, bending down and offering his hand to her.

"Can't say I remember _ever_ doing it," said Riley as she took his hand, returning to her feet. She gazed around, taking in her surroundings: The style of the architecture suggested she had gone back in time, which was further heightened as a group of horses galloped by, all accompanied by men and women in capes and medieval-style armor. Massive, gold, and beautiful, the city already beckoned her forth, urging her to come and explore its wonders.

Asgard was _breathtaking._

"Asgard," she breathed, making a complete circle to get a good look at everything, even if they were only at its entrance.

Thor's lip curved in a smile as he watched her. "What did I tell you, Riley Harrow?"

"It's even better than I pictured." Riley's eyes moved back to Thor, lit with awe. "Beautiful, actually. But...what now?" Her eyes had darted back to Loki, who looked for all the world like a child who had been scolded and put in time-out.

"Well, in your case," said Thor, taking her by the arm and leading her down the pathway, "you shall be led up to one of our guest quarters, where you will stay for the time being. I, on the other hand, shall be dealing with my brother.

"His punishment, you mean," said Riley, looking to Loki once again. She couldn't, for the life of her, explain the strange feeling of pity that welled up inside of her. It didn't make any sense whatsoever...Loki had destroyed the city, slaughtered handful after handful of innocent people, and attempted to rule the Earth.  _But for a purpose_ , she thought.  _He did think what he was doing was right...it made sense in his mind, warped as it is._

 _Does this mean you’ll go easy on me now, too_? Valek mused as his image strutted past her with a shit-eating grin. **_I’m_** _only doing what makes sense in **my own** warped mind, right, babe?_

 _Okay, fair enough._ Well-meaning or not, Loki was a war criminal and a killer. She wasn’t one to wish death on even her worst enemy, but she hoped his sentencing was fair. He would pay for his callous actions, just like any serial killer on Earth.

"Yes," Thor answered. "I shall return to you when the trial is over, but for the time being, I'm afraid you must stay out of the way."

Riley nodded, respecting his request. She knew that Odin, the All-Father, probably wouldn't be too happy with Thor for bringing a mortal along, and it would only make things worse if she were to get in the way of Loki's sentence. She did not have a voice, not here, in a world that was not her own. Her father may have walked these halls, but she was a stranger to them, and would be treated as such.

Thor led both her and Loki up through the palace (he could not currently leave Loki by himself), then through a long, winding corridor. The entire way there, Riley was met with curious and prying looks from Asgardians passing by, some simply confused and others cold and unwelcoming. In her casual Earth clothing (black leggings and an over-sized “I <3 NY” shirt she had bought to temporarily wear), she could have very well been running around shouting, _"I'm not from around here!"_ She selfishly hoped that most of the stares were for Loki, not her.

They reached a pair of tall, towering double-doors painted in dark lacquer. "These lead up to two of the royal rooms." Thor's expression was oddly apologetic. "One of them is my brother's, but the one nearest it is open. I hope you forgive me...we do not have many places to house you, as your appearance here was not expected."

"No, no, it's all right," said Riley, avoiding Loki's eyes; she had a feeling it was most certainly _not_  "all right" with him.

"I shall see you in a few hours or so," said Thor, backing away with Loki at his side. "Make yourself comfortable, Riley of Midgard."

"You can just call me Riley," said Riley. "Or, you know, Brown Recluse. But that's just my undercover name, so..."

Riley watched Thor turn away, vanishing back down the hallway, and looked back to the doors, sighing. It just felt so...weird. She was _utterly_ out of place. Most mortals would be, she imagined, but she was hopelessly uncultured, had lived a modest lifestyle, and was less than impressive with her table manners. To top it off, everyone here looked like they had just left the set of _America’s Next Top Model_ , whereas Riley probably wouldn’t have even been let into a modeling agency’s _waiting area._

Riley trudged up the stairs behind the doors, making her way up to the bedrooms. It took no time at all to tell which was Loki's (she peered inside one of them experimentally, and a cold chill greeted her from within). She knew that the other bedroom was the guest's one, but curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped inside.

The ceiling soared upward to heaven, and dark curtains shielded any light from coming in through the window. The emerald and gold-trimmed sheets on the four-poster bed were made up neatly, appearing un-used for quite some time. Beyond a couch, a desk, and a chair, there was no other furniture. Had this place even been lived in? Riley drew her arms around herself as the icy temperatures coiled around her. She backed quietly out of the room, shutting the door softly, and moved to open the other bedroom door.

Mimicking the first room, the guest bedroom was built with the same general structure, but it was far less cold. An open window in the corner blew in a light gust of wind, sending Riley's mousy brown hair fluttering backward.

Riley laid down on the bed, rolling onto her back. The events of the day seemed as though they were weeks ago, but the dry (and fresh) blood on her skin reminded her otherwise. After a few minutes of empty thoughts (invaded by Valek, as always), she got back on her feet and untied her shoes, tossing them at the foot of the bed.

She padded barefoot to the bathroom, to wash away the blood and clean her various wounds. A huge, rounded, in-ground tub with steps allowed for her to walk straight in, and the faucets were similar enough to Earth’s tubs for her to operate them. The warm water felt amazing against her skin, tempting her, and she ended up stripping her clothes to take a long soak in the tub.

Even for a guest bathroom, this place was fuckin’ fancy. Riley poked through a _huge_ assortment of soaps (and used at least eighteen different kinds, making the bathroom smell like a _Bath and Body Works_ had farted in its general direction), and the water never seemed to cool beyond the set temperature.

Minutes passed, one after the other. Riley sank deep into the warm water, watching the hands ticking away on the nearby clock. Perhaps someone was putting up a fight in favor of Loki, coming to his defense...Or maybe his sentence was being slowly decided, carefully picked. Would it be painful? Would he be jailed away, or perhaps even put to death for his crimes?

Riley shuddered at the thought and pushed it away. That was how things on Earth worked, but she’d never liked it—partly because of the idea of playing god like that, and partly because she’d done things in her past herself to probably warrant such a penalty.

 _Yeah, but they couldn’t have killed us even if they tried,_ Valek added. _I’d make sure of that._

_Could you ever **not** intrude in on my thoughts?_

_Nope._

She wasn't sure exactly how much time she spent in the bath, but after a while, she began to grow cold again and climbed out, fashioning a towel around her body.  _Thor should be coming up here anytime now_ , she thought to herself. Truth be told, what she really wanted was to meet some of the Asgardians, to chat with them and perhaps get to know them better. Of course, there was still that gnawing, fearful sensation in her gut that made her question...Would they treat her any differently?

Of course they would. The trouble with being a half-blood was that she didn’t fit neatly into either category. Humans scorned her, and the Asgardians probably would, too.

She returned to her previous clothes and began to pace about the room, feeling trapped, as though she were locked in an enclosed, cramped cage. She picked up everything that was tangible, examined it, and put it back in its place. Finally, just when she'd begun to think Thor had forgotten her, there was a heavy knock on the door.

"How'd it go?" Riley demanded the moment he entered.

"Sorry I kept you waiting. My mother spoke on Loki’s behalf," said Thor, sweeping into the room, "and asked that Father have mercy on Loki.”

"What was his sentence?"

Thor drew in a deep breath. "Loki is to spend the rest of his days in the dungeons.”

Riley’s shoulders sagged in unwanted _(he’s a criminal!)_ relief. A death penalty should have been aptly warranted, but she was admittedly thankful that he would not die. Although, would a lifetime in chains _really_ be any better than death?

“Are, uh…are you all right?” Riley asked. “With him being your brother and all.”

“I will be. He brought war on your people and murdered many—family or not, justice must be served.”

Riley supposed she’d never know the feeling…Unless, what if Quinn were to have gone crazy and murdered people? Would she defend her behavior, or be okay with letting her rot in chains?

“Are you in need of any nourishment?"

"What, dinner?" Riley shook her head; she'd already had the shawarma earlier, and after all that had happened, she wasn't feeling very hungry, for once. "No thank you...But, I have to ask. Did you tell anyone of my arrival yet?"

Thor's brilliantly blue eyes darkened slightly. "I have spoken with my father about it."

"And?" Riley urged, preparing for the worst.

"And he is…all right with it." Although Thor offered her a smile, Riley sensed something deeper in his words. Was he lying, or perhaps stretching the truth? It would come as a great surprise to her if Odin had just taken her appearance there in Asgard lightly.

"That's good," said Riley, eyeing him somewhat suspiciously. "Is that... _all_  he said?"

"Well, you may speak with him tomorrow yourself," said Thor, running a hand through his beard, deep in thought. "I expect you are wanting to rest, after everything today?"

"Rest is good." Riley sank back against her bed, suppressing a yawn. "I could go for some sleep."

Thor nodded. "I assumed right, then. Meet me in the dining hall tomorrow, won't you? We will have much to discuss."

"Of course."

Thor swept over to the doorway once again, nodding goodnight to her as he shouldered his way out.

"And Thor?" Riley added.

"Yes?" said Thor, turning slightly to look at her over his red-draped shoulder.

Riley managed a small smile, which was far more than she felt like doing at the moment. "Thank you."

As she burrowed into the layers of covers and sheets, Riley's mind raced about in her head, preventing her from sleeping.

 _Well, there's a pretty decent chance that I'll be incinerated by Odin tomorrow_ , Riley thought as she turned restlessly onto her side, _but I’ve been through worse._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really...not happy with this chapter? It's a REALLY important chapter, and highly emotional, so I wanted to convey it that way, but to me, it just seems...I dunno, rushed? Please let me know what you guys think, and whether I need to make any changes to make this chapter run more smoothly. Thanks!

Riley hurriedly moved to pick up the fallen stack of books, placing them back onto the shelf, flustered.

She'd awoken that morning to a pile of assorted clothing laid out for her, no doubt by the servants. She couldn’t very well be picky about what to wear, since she was a guest in this place, so after skimming through the dresses several times, she settled on the most casual one she could find—a cerulean dress with white lace and a simple brown belt, probably made for Asgardians of the middle to lower class.

The problem was, the clothes were _so damn tight._  Obviously all Asgardian woman were _fuckin’ perfect,_ so apart from the god-awful corset she’d struggled into, the dress itself clung to her chest and tummy as though holding on for dear life. It was clearly made for a woman size -10, with a tiny waist and virtually no bust. So along with hopelessly sucking her already-cramped stomach in, her boobs also spilled over the top of the dress like two giant, white planets.

 _You look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy had a love-child with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,_ Valek put forth. _Nice rack, though._

Riley would have been angrier with him, had she not been used to this torment. She had begun putting on weight ever since her escape as a child from The Atelier, since she’d been virtually starved there, and more than made up for it in the years to come. Since then, Valek had mocked her will all manner of fat jokes, so she’d become pretty desensitized to them by now.

In the process of doing up the back of the complicated corset, she'd ended up knocking into the book shelf in the corner, taking out an entire row of novels. Thus, the fallen books.

With a critical look at her reflection in the mirror, she finally moved to the door, taking a deep breath before shoving it open. So many concerns swirled through her mind, tugging at her heart. What if, for being a half-blood, he'd banish her back to Earth? What if he somehow knew about Valek, and ordered that she be slain on the spot?

Riley gave an involuntary shudder and headed down the stairs, back through the main doors leading to her room. She paused at the bottom and looked from left to right, wondering which way to go.  _It would've been nice of Thor to give me directions_ , she thought, partly annoyed. She didn't remember seeing the dining hall on the way up to her room yesterday, and it wasn't like she'd been in Asgard before.

The hallway was dimly-lit, and no other Asgardians were anywhere in sight. Apparently most everyone had already gotten up and gone to breakfast. _Of course they did. Because these people are all_ so damn perfect, _they get up on time and never sleep in until 2:00pm_. Not that she ever did that, of course. Obviously.

As she navigated the hallway, she wondered how Loki was doing in the prisons. What were their prisons like? Were they the same level of shit as the ones on Earth, or even worse? Or were they all pampered places with the luxury levels of the rest of Asgard?

Finally, she came upon a spacious room of off-white and pale gold colors, just as jaw-dropping and dignified as the rest of the palace. Flames lit torches along the walls, and massive curtains draped along even bigger stained-glass windows. A huge wooden table took up most of the space in the dining hall, donned with a variety of foods, most of which Riley did not recognize. The items she did recognize included a variety of assorted meats, goblets of wine (with _breakfast?),_ eggs, toast, and fruit.

Riley kept her gaze low as she made her way to the front of the table, but the weight of the stares around her burned through her skull. There was an adjacent table at the head of the first, raised slightly higher than the one below. Thor sat on the far right end, beside an older man and woman. An empty chair at the very end of the row made the whole set-up appear very…empty.

Thor raised a goblet to her as she drew closer, and the old man at the table stood, facing her. From his elevated height, Riley felt the full weight of being in front of both a god and a king. He had wispy, cotton-white hair, and wore a golden eye patch over his right eye. His other vibrant blue one moved to stare sternly down at her, and Riley swallowed nervously. She didn't like this feeling of authority that Odin had over her. It was not often that she was able to hold her tongue and dish out respect to anyone but those who truly deserved it (although it usually got her into trouble). She had lived under the rule of the Queen of England for some time, but even then, she had never met her in person before.

But now? She was standing before a god. _A god!_ She feared that if she said the wrong thing or stepped out of line, serious consequences would follow.

"Riley Harrow," said the old man, rising from his seat to look at her. The already hushed chatter in the room extinguished and Riley felt all eyes scorch into her flesh.

"Hello, sir," said Riley in a barely audible voice. She could feel her legs shaking slightly, but she made no effort to stop them. It was incredibly uncomfortable, with all of the Asgardians' gazes on her, some no doubt disapproving, judging her...

"Riley," said Thor from across the table, and her eyes moved to look quickly at him, "this is my father, Odin Allfather. It's...customary that you bow."

"Oh...oh! Sorry!" Riley hastily moved to get down on one knee, unsure of how to kneel as she had not done it to anyone before, but Odin raised his hand to her in a "stop" motion.

"That is unnecessary," said Odin, motioning for her to rise.

Riley stood up a bit too abruptly, hitting her head on the table. There was a short scatter of giggles and snickers, and Riley felt her face burn bright tomato, her head pounding in pain.

"You may take your seat." Odin gestured to an open chair at the lower table, beside a gorgeous brunette woman, but a feminine voice cut him off.

“Oh, nonsense!” The woman beside Odin—Queen Frigga, if Riley remembered correctly—waved a hand dismissively at her husband. “We have a free chair right here. Riley, why don’t you come sit with us?”

"Er, yeah…Thanks. Um, ma’am." As awkwardly as a person could, she ambled up the stairs to the raised table, taking Loki’s empty seat next to Thor.

Odin’s one eye darted over to his wife, the slightest hint of displeasure making an appearance on his facial features. "Very well…Now, Thor has already explained your presence here to me, as of last night. The circumstances of your heritage are something I have personally been involved in—meaning, I knew your parents quite well.”

Riley blinked in blatant surprise and opened her mouth to say something, but no sound followed. What  _could_  she say? "You—you knew? Um, you knew my…my…?" 

_You have such an impressive way with words, Riley._

“Yes. Your father, Åke Eskilson, was one of Asgard’s finest warriors, and the God of Companionship and Family.” There was a strange mixture of fondness and pride mingled with bitterness in Odin’s tone, in the way a man may speak of a successful son who did something stupid. It made Riley unsure of how to feel about his words. “I knew him in my youth, and he was the one to introduce me to my wife, Frigga.”

 _No way!_ That didn’t make sense. That sounded _hella cool_ , but if her father was as old as Odin, wouldn’t she be many years older? Or, like, half-immortal or something?

As if reading her mind, Odin continued, “He fought beside me for many years, and was there for the birth of my firstborn, Thor, but he did not have his own child until much later. How your years will work, as a… _half-blood,_ I am yet to see.” The word half-blood came out with more spite than the god probably intended, and Riley winced.

“There’s plenty of time for talk,” Thor hastily intervened, as though sensing the growing tension in the room. “For now, let us feast! Riley, eat up—you look pale as a Vyloo.”

Riley could barely get her body to listen to its brain’s commands, her hand fumbling for the fork. She stabbed a piece of meat, then missed her own mouth. Being at the royals’ table made her highly uncomfortable, seeing as the fanciest place she’d ever dined in was probably an Olive Garden. It didn’t help that Thor’s mother continually stared pointedly at her—not in a cruel way so much as inquisitive, but still, it made her squirm in her seat.

When she had finally managed to shovel some eggs in her mouth and wash it down with wine, Odin continued, “Seeing as you are half-Asgardian, you are welcome to visit. But there are… _other matters_ that must be dealt with.” His one good eye fell upon her. It was funny how one single eye could intimidate and instill so much fear in a person, like with Nick Fury.

Queen Frigga stood suddenly, and about half of the crowd in the dining hall fell silent. “Let’s take a walk,” she said to Riley; it was really more of a command than a suggestion, and honestly, Riley was glad for it. She ditched her plate as quickly as possible, giving Odin an awkward little half-bow before scurrying off the platform.

Frigga only smiled, as pleasant and bright as the gold surrounding them. She offered Riley an arm, which she took. “Come; we’ll go to the gardens.”

As they left the hall, it took everything in Riley’s power to not look back, to see everyone staring after them. After a few minutes, Frigga gently rested her other hand on Riley’s.

“They’re gone, you know,” she said not unkindly, in reference to the other Asgardians in the dining hall. “You don’t have to grip my arm so tightly.”

Having not realized she was grabbing onto the woman’s arm for dear life, Riley slackened her grip, her face flooding with color. “O-oh! I’m sorry, my Queen, I didn’t realize I was—”

Frigga laughed, the sound airy and light, reminding Riley of Midgardian wind chimes. “You’re all right, dear. Calm down; no one’s going to eat you. And you don’t have to be so formal; just call me Frigga, please.”

Riley returned the laugh nervously, but her shoulders remained tense. “I…right, sorry.”

“You’re so like your father, you know,” Frigga mused, leading the way down the garden’s cobblestone path, her free hand reaching out to run along the foliage. “So…uncomfortable in your own skin, so jumpy.” She flashed Riley another contagious smile, and Riley could feel her shoulders beginning to slacken.

“So, you knew him, too? My father?”

“Oh yes; we were very good friends in our youth. We studied magic together. He tried _so hard_ to get my dear Odin to understand our love of it, and proved how beneficial it could be on the battlefield.” Frigga led Riley to a nearby bench, which faced a modest but beautiful stone pond, alive with shimmering fish. “You look so much like him, you know. Your father. He’s in your eyes and your nose.”

Riley stuttered out an awkward thank you, and Frigga clasped her hand in hers.

“But your mother’s face overall—I see it _so_ strongly in you. Your mother...I was never fond of mortals before her. I thought Åke had gone quite mad when he told me he had fallen for a Midgardian girl. But he…” Frigga trailed off, glancing at Riley again. “I'm sorry, I’m usually more composed than this. It’s just…”

Riley could see years and years of love and compassion behind those beautiful, ancient eyes as Frigga sighed, running her fingers along Riley’s hand. “I don’t mean to overwhelm you. But you must understand; Åke and Amelia were some of my greatest companions, and to have lost them, and then to see you…”

She moved to hold Riley’s face in her hands, and Riley didn’t move away. The sheer _adoration_ and love this woman was showering her with was something she had never known in her lifetime, and frankly…she was enjoying the attention. Frigga reminded her of a woman she had known long ago, when she had first escaped from The Atelier. When she had fled the place, a young boy her age had taken her in, and his mother had treated Riley as though she were her own.

And if that were the case, then maybe that’s what this felt like, too: A mother’s love.

“Your mother and father did something for me once—a debt I can _never_ repay.” Frigga inhaled sharply through her nose. “Your mother…well, let’s just say she risked her life to save something of mine, and I never got the chance to pay her back. I thought that, with you being born, surely I’d be able to, but…” She shook her golden curls, letting her hands come to settle in her lap. “I’m sorry. This must be a lot for you to take in, having this old woman harping on about the past.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Riley assured her. “Honestly, it’s all right. I just…it _is_ a lot for me to take in, especially after I just fought in a war a day ago. I mean, I'm still kind of reeling from that. But…I really _want_ to know more. About my parents, I mean. Will you tell me?” It wasn’t like she’d ever get a chance like this again in her lifetime.

Frigga nodded solemnly, still smiling sadly in the memory of long-lost friendship. “Of course, dear, of course…I’d love to. Your father was the God of Family, but he never started one for himself until he was much older than most Asgardian men. After he introduced me to Odin, I was constantly trying to set him up with my female friends. They were all gorgeous and lovely women, so I could never understand why he refused to settle down. He wasn’t a royal, so there was no necessity for it, but…well, let’s just say your father was a peculiar man all-around.”

The Queen stood again, taking Riley’s arm to lead them further down the winding garden path. “Eventually, there was this Asgardian movement where people of certain ranks were allowed to go to Midgard, for study purposes. We knew plenty of the other eight realms, and had treaties and alliances with them, but…Midgard never even knew of our existence. So, some Asgardians were allowed to travel to Midgard to study the people there, even build relations and trust on a small scale.

“Your father was one of few picked to go to Midgard. None of us even considered the prospect that someone might _fall in love_ with one of the Midgardians, yet here we were. I can’t speak for your father, but I _can_ tell you that he was absolutely smitten. By this point and time, Odin was the king, and I the Queen. Odin…” Frigga shook her head, clutching Riley’s hand tightly in hers, giving it a light squeeze. “Well, at first, he forbid it. He couldn’t understand why an Asgardian would love a mortal, and he was furious with Åke for it. Your father fought him on it, and I stood in his corner—not because I believed in their relationship at the time, but because I cared for your father, and trusted his judgment.

“Eventually, Odin conceded to their relationship, and your father even brought Amelia here, so we could meet her properly. She was a beautiful girl, you know—as are you.” Riley’s cheeks bloomed at the rare compliment. “Not just on the outside, either. She was a warm and passionate person, driven with ambition, albeit stubborn at times. She playfully called your father 'Okay,' since the English vernacular sounds quite similar to the pronunciation of Åke. I never thought I would ever befriend a mortal, let alone see one as an equal, but Riley…” Frigga’s face lit up with the memory, and all Riley could think was that she hoped she was as beautiful as Frigga in her old age. “Your mother became my _closest_ friend. I told her things I’d never even told Odin, let alone Åke. I trusted her with my life. She was human, but she was wise beyond her years, and kindhearted in ways I will never begin to understand.

"I will admit I've had my own misconceptions of the Midgardian people. It shames me to think of how long I have looked down on them for...But don't let anyone tell you an old dog can't learn new tricks." She winked. "Even so, I'm ashamed to say that I don't know how I'd have acted if some other mortal came here to Asgard. It sickens me, but I know I would have treated them differently. You're my best friend's daughter. But if you hadn't been, would I have turned you away?"

They had reached a cliff side away from the palace, overlooking the rest of Asgard in all its glory. Winding hedges, lush gardens, beautiful structures and homes, and rich floods of water were all only parts of its attractiveness, and Riley beheld it with her breath caught in her throat.

A grin spread across Frigga’s wrinkled but lovely face. “Yes, that was the exact expression Amelia had when she first came here, too.”

Riley wasn’t sure how long they stood there for, staring out at the activity lurking below, but eventually, she turned to Frigga with a query on her tongue. “My parents. Do…do you know what actually happened to them?”

Frigga’s expression darkened, a shadow falling across the golden light in her eyes. “Your mother and father were on their honeymoon on another planet—some small moon outside the Nine Realms, modest but known for its vibrancy and multi-color waters. They just so happened to be there when Valek The Destroyer brought his wrath upon its people.”

Riley swallowed so hard, she thought she might choke on her own saliva.

 _Ahhh good,_ Valek chimed in. _Finally, something about **me**. This mushy-gushy bullshit has had me bored out of my mind._

“I was not there, so I only know this from your father, but your mother insisted that they try the Containment Spell on her. It was only after they had sealed Valek in her that they realized that Amelia was pregnant, and that his essence and soul had been transferred into you.

“They took all precautions possible, and I vowed to protect you.” Now Frigga swallowed, her eyes shimmering. “Your father and mother wanted to live on Midgard, at least for a time—and have a second home on Asgard, so that you could experience both worlds. But while they were on Midgard, someone—I do not know who—attacked and murdered them.”

Frigga’s fingernails dug into Riley’s hand, but Riley said nothing, allowing the woman to experience her grief without interruption. “I thought you were dead.” A single tear trickled down her cheek. “Not even our gatekeeper, Heimdall, could see you, so it was assumed you had been murdered with them, or that Valek had gotten you. I know not how you escaped, nor how you evaded Heimdall’s all-seeing gaze. But when my son told me he had brought a half-Midgardian here to us…” The Queen ran her fingers through Riley’s mousy hair, and somehow, Riley saw both the stoic, regal woman Frigga had become through years of practice and experience, and the compassionate and emotional woman beheld before her now.

Frigga cupped Riley’s chin in her hand, gently turning her so that they were eye-to-eye. “But now I see you, and I see in you the fire your mother once had. Because if you are standing here before me, then you must still host Valek in your soul—and only the offspring of that stubborn woman could handle such a darkness for that long.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you guys think Frigga or Odin are too OOC. Especially Frigga, because it's hard to say how she would really react in a situation like this. I like to think that she would be more open-minded than Odin to the idea of mortals, and that she could even befriend one if given the chance to understand them/see them as a real person. But people have different opinions, so lemme know if any of you are feeling like she's too saccharine-sweet with Riley.
> 
> Thanks!

_Oh please,_ Valek scoffed, coming to stand beside Queen Frigga with a look of undiluted revulsion. _Gimme a break._ _What does this old broad know? Bet your mum would have given up in an hour, tops._

 _You don’t know anything about my mother, you vat of toxic waste,_ Riley grit back.

_I know a hell of a lot more than **you** do, that’s for sure._

“You can hear him, can’t you?”

Riley glanced up to see Frigga eyeing her quizzically, that demeanor of a royal leader returning. She must have been making some strange expressions with her face (as Quinn had told her once), since Frigga took notice.

“Valek? Yeah. He’s right there, actually,” Riley added, pointing at him. Of course, Frigga would only see thin air. “My mental image of him, anyway. He’s a real dick. Sorry,” she added, realizing who she was talking to. Were Queens okay with people saying ‘dick’?

Amusement decorated Frigga’s expression. “No apologies necessary, dear. Valek is, indeed, a male’s genitalia.”

They both laughed then, much to Valek’s chagrin.

“It is still a strange wonder to behold,” Frigga continued, “to actually stand before one of his hosts. Everyone is taught our history, and I’ve certainly read my fair share of information about Valek, but he’s always been regarded by us as more of a myth. Few in the Nine Realms have seen his power and lived to tell the tale, so Asgardians mostly share his stories as just that.”

That didn’t come as a surprise to Riley; most people did see Valek as just a myth, a weird cautionary tale, horror story, mythological lore, what-have-you. Few really knew of him as a real being, since his power only escaped in between hosts. The universe was much more vast and dense than anyone really expected, so Valek’s travels had really only extended to about half of it.

“Odin will be wanting to speak to you about him.” Frigga offered Riley’s hand another squeeze, which only served to heighten Riley’s anxiety. “We are the only Asgardians to know of his existence in you. I’m afraid that if others found out, they might…” The sentence never finished, but Riley knew exactly what she was going to say. People didn’t take kindly to an age-old demon serial killer, and they had a tendency to take it out on the host. Sometimes people just wanted to get their own brand of revenge, and other times, people wanted to see if they could somehow harness Valek’s power through the host. Either way, not a great outcome.

“Does he want me to leave?” Riley queried, and a familiar feeling cultivated itself in the pit of her belly. As soon as people knew what she was, they either wanted her power, or wanted to get rid of her. Even those who only knew of her magic and little else, like the Midgardians. She could recall far too many times when people had fled from her, called her cruel names, and even attempted to hurt her, having witness even just a miniscule amount of her power.

Fear was a greater emotion than any other, and it kept Riley woefully isolated.

“For the long term, I’m afraid he does not wish for you to be here. You must understand,” she added as Riley pursed her lips, “he is merely doing what he feels is best for his people. As a king, he fears that having you around could risk the lives of the Asgardians.”

“And what do _you_ think?” Riley hadn’t intended for it to come out so bitter, but the situation was just _so typical_ that it burned her to her core.

“ _I_ think that my husband has the final say in political affairs. But that does not mean he can force you out in a day’s time.”

The pair fell silent again, but in a comfortable manner, like old friends sharing company.

“Do you wish you’d had a daughter?” Riley suddenly blurted.

_Wow. Subtle._

Frigga’s cobalt eyes clouded over. “I had a daughter once, actually. My firstborn. But… _circumstances_ drew us apart.”

She said nothing else, and Riley didn’t pry. Though Riley wondered whether she meant she’d had a miscarriage, or a falling out with her daughter. Neither option was any more pleasant than the other.

They returned to the palace, where Odin himself greeted them at the main entrance. Riley began to shrink, but Frigga kept a firm but gentle grasp on her arm, encouraging her forth. The king observed the two with a narrowed eye, making no attempt to mask the prominent distaste in his mien.

“I believe my wife has…sufficiently filled you in on matters?” he questioned.

“Uh—yeah, I…think so.” Riley glanced to Frigga, receiving a nod. “Yeah.”

“Very well. Then you know that you are… _welcome,”_ he all but grit the word out, “in Asgard for the time being. Your secret is safe with us, and I’m _assuming_ I do not need to emphasize the importance of that?”

Riley nodded hurriedly. “Trust me, I’ve been trying to keep that locked up for years. Sir,” she added, feeling her choice of words could have sounded more eloquent.

“Good. I will allow your presence here for a while longer, but when I see fit to send you home, I expect there will be no grievances, _yes?”_

“Yes.” Riley hated feeling like some kind of burden or irksome fly in a person’s home, but she wasn’t about to disregard the All-Father of the Nine Realms.

“All right, my darling, that’s enough,” Frigga cut in softly, taking her husband’s hands in hers. “She’s been through quite enough hassling for a lifetime. I’ll take things from here.” She pecked Odin on the cheek, and he returned the gesture with more warmth than Riley had seen in him this entire morning.

“Don’t be long, my dear. We still have that council meeting with Nidavellir at midday.”

“Of course. I will be there before the sun even reaches the highest part of its path.”

The couple parted, and while Riley had absolutely no clue what Frigga saw in the old fart, even a blind man could see the love between them.

“Come. I wish to show you something.”

They trekked back across Asgard’s palace grounds, winding through corridors and tall staircases, until they reached one of the highest points of the kingdom. The whole way there, Riley was met with careful stares; Asgardians cautiously looked their way, but immediately averted their gaze when they saw the Queen accompanying her, respectfully bowing their heads as they passed.

They reached a decaying wooden door with cobwebs coughed all over the paneling. It seemed as out of place as Riley herself in this golden palace, and took some jimmying with the lock in order to open. The door groaned despairingly as Frigga eased it open, revealing the room behind.

The inside of the room was as dismal as the door, and about ten times dustier. A once-white crib with peeling paint sat forlornly in the center of the room, with little charms of dragons and wolves hanging overhead. Apart from a rug that spit dust when trod on, some drawn curtains over a window, and an empty bookshelf in the corner, the room was pretty empty.

“This is…” Riley’s words caught in her throat, but she needn’t say more.

“My husband insisted we tear it down and rebuild,” Frigga commented, voice just above a whisper as she began to pace the length of the room, “but I could never bring myself to let him do it. Before your parents used it, this was my firstborn’s room. But she grew out of it, and your father showed it plenty of love.” She ran the pads of her fingers along the length of the wall, and the paint there crumbled away in tiny flecks.

Riley could only watch the Queen reminisce, her legs planted firmly in the threshold of the door, rooted on the spot. Only ghosts lived here now, and she felt as though she were trespassing.

“I always pictured the three of you becoming friends,” Frigga mused, back to Riley. “You and my sons. Odin was never fond of the idea, but your father and I were all too eager to see you play together, to grow up amongst each other and build bonds between our worlds. It was a fleeting thought, but I once even considered whether you would wed one of my sons.”

Surely Riley had just been sunburned, as the idea of her marrying Thor flitted through her brain.

“A silly idea, I know,” Frigga continued, though Riley thought it was not silly at all, “but I found myself so caught up in this mythical future, and never imagined what was to come…But The Norns take pity on no man nor god.”

By late afternoon, Riley returned to her little Hobbit Hole, stashing herself away from the prying eyes of the Asgardians (who gawked unashamedly in Frigga’s absence). She spent the rest of the daylight reading the books on the little shelf in her room. Only one was in English, but one of the (few) perks of hosting an age-old demon was that Riley was well-versed in every language known to man. Obviously Valek had been given plenty of time to pick up languages, having been “born” before time itself, and since Riley shared his power and memories, his linguistics translated over to her mind.

There was even a book with Valek in it, though only briefly mentioned among other deities ( ** _Really?_** _They just lobbed me in with all the other celestials and beings? Disgraceful,_ Valek growled). Even so, reading proved difficult, as the events of the day swarmed in her brain. She never would have guessed that her parents knew the Queen and King themselves, let alone were _friends_ with them (at least Frigga, anyway). And whether or not it was just because she was the daughter of Frigga’s friend, it brought her a pleasant sensation in the core of her chest to know that the woman liked her, even treated her as…

Her own?

That was a bit much. Possibly true, but she wasn’t about to go begging the Queen to adopt her or anything. It was just nice to know that someone actually cared about her, despite having complete knowledge of her “bad blood” and demonic parasite.

Burying her face into the pillow, Riley smiled against the fabric, slowly nodding off with the fantasy of a mother in her head.

And thus, the nightmares came.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley gets a visit from an unwanted visitor in her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Hey, guys. So this chapter is one of the biggest reasons for my fic’s rating. Riley’s entire dream sequence will be very dark and horror-esque, even to the point where I’m squeamish writing it. That said, if you have any triggers or are prone to be shaken by any gory or dark material, I’d skip this chapter. I included it because I want to emphasize the cruelty of Valek’s character, since we haven’t really seen it first-hand thus far. There will be child abuse in this chapter, and it gets pretty gruesome; child abuse is actually something I’m very easily nauseated by, but it felt necessary. If you feel it might be too much, scroll down to the end, where I've included a very basic summary of this chapter.
> 
> You’ve been warned.

These days, the nightmares were less frequent, but never fully ceased. She could usually have a full REM cycle uninterrupted by Valek’s torments (lest she completely collapse in her waking hours from exhaustion), but every other dream or so, Valek found a way into the deeper pathways of her mind.

Tonight, unfortunately, seemed to be one of those times.

Riley awoke in a darkened space, a realm apart from reality. No true light penetrated this place, but Riley could perceive her own body in its depths. She slowly stirred, sitting up on an unseen floor, the idle _drip…drip_ of an unknown source of liquid echoing both from a far off distance, and somewhere right beside her. To describe this place in coherent terms would be a difficult task, and the pain she would endure would be nothing anyone other than a fellow host of Valek could understand.

_“Riiiiiiiley.”_

You could get used to the dick’s trickery after a while, but the fear never fully subsided. Fear’s a funny thing that way—it can fluctuate and change shape, but it never really dissipates.

The ground beneath Riley shifted, melting like molten lava as it began to scorch her flesh, its color brightening until it became apparent that she was now waist-deep in hot, dense blood. She’d had this kind of dream before, but that made the pain no less severe.

Riley cried out as the blood boiled her skin, swallowing her up in a fiery prison. She attempted to trudge through the thick, gloppy substance—was it truly blood? It certainly _smelled_ like it—and find higher ground; although she knew the attempt would be useless, it was only human instinct to try and flee from the danger, even if logic told her there was no place to go. Pride mattered not here, and Riley shrieked and shrieked as she tried to swim through the burning current, but the more steps she took, the farther her body sank down, until the blood reached her throat.

Her whole body was melting—she was sure of it. She could see bits and pieces of her own porcelain flesh peeling away, layers of reddening skin becoming charred before liquefying to reveal bone.

 _“This can all stop,”_ Valek’s cooing voice reassured her, his voice shifting as it morphed into the higher tones of Frigga’s. _“Come on, Riley. You don’t have to endure this pain. Let me take it from you—just give in to me. Please.”_

Crying only worsened things, for Riley’s eyes also leaked hot blood, stinging her cheeks as fat dollops rolled down her face. As the ocean of vermilion fire swelled up to her face, she began to choke on it as she sank, the substance burning her throat and tearing her apart from the inside out. The skin on her neck sizzled away, leaving holes in her trachea like Swiss cheese. 

Ghostly forms of those long past began to rise up from the blood, people she’d long since put from her mind but never forgotten. They, too, melted as they reached skeletal hands out for her, grappling blindly as their eyeballs popped and rolled from their sockets.

 _“Riley,”_ they moaned. _“Why did you do this to us, Riley? Why are you letting us suffer, Riley?”_

Dry sobs continued, despite the pain— _because_ of the pain. Riley begged and pleaded to an unknown source for it all to end, for her to just _die, damn it,_ and be done with it all.

 _“Just say pleaaaase,”_ Valek’s voice soothed as the skeletal digits of Riley’s former companions reached her, clawing at what bits of tissue remained on her own bones. _“This can allll be over, I promise. Just give yourself to me. Let me take over for you.”_

How Riley always managed to ignore him, she would never be sure. Perhaps it was the fact that her parents had sacrificed themselves to give her life, and had risked and lost everything just to give her a chance. Perhaps it was because of Quinn, and Fury, and the Avengers, and how this torture would be given to _them_ if she let Valek take over. How the world would _burn_ like her flesh, and the next world after that, and the next…How everyone she ever knew and loved would suffer just as she had, how all of her years of resisting would be for nothing.

Maybe it was just the fact that she was _so damn stubborn_ and _petty_ that she refused to let a bastard like Valek control her, the way everyone else in her life had done. Maybe because she _needed_ that control.

Either way, these thoughts did little to quell the agony gushing through her veins. A bony hand clasped over her mouth, dragging her under. Realistically (assuming _anything_ occurring here was realistic), she should have died by now. She should have succumbed to the pain, should have lost all sense of mind, should have drowned in this scorching blood.

Instead, she choked on the bubbling liquid, attempting to draw in air to her burnt lungs, only to gulp in mouthfuls of the putrid muck, the taste and scent of iron overwhelming her other senses. Her tongue shriveled up in what was left of her gaping maw, her teeth rotting away into black kernels.

And then nothing.

Riley blinked. She sat in the center of a white space now, deceivingly contrasting to the dark of the previous realm. Her skin and bones had been remedied, but she knew better by now. Valek’s bag of tricks had run low these days, so she could anticipate his actions pretty well. She was strapped to a chair, bound by her wrists and ankles, but she made no move to escape. This was Valek’s world. She had no power here.

“There was a little girl.” Valek stood before her now, accompanied by a young girl with blue hair, blue eyes, and blue skin—blue, blue blue. She looked to be about eight in earth years, with pointed elfish ears and huge eyes. _This_ could be nothing good. “An Ice Elf, from the frozen parts of Alfheim. Alais Norydark. Say hello, Alais.”

“Hello, Riley.”

The pure _innocence_ of the girl’s voice made Riley’s stomach lurch. “Don’t, Valek.”

“Alais was one of my hosts, about, say…four thousand years ago? Eight? Who can remember.” Valek nudged Alais forward, so that she stood only a foot apart from where Riley sat. “Like you, she was my host from when she was a baby. A real trooper, this one. So _stubborn._ ”

Ohh, this was a new low, even for Valek. Riley squirmed now, in spite of herself, fingernails digging into her binds. “Valek, seriously, stop! Please!”

“I’ve brought Alais here today because she reminds me of a younger _you_. I wanted to demonstrate for you today what it took for me to _break_ this one. For reference, perhaps.”

“One day I’ll die,” Riley swore, wriggling against her restraints, “and I’m going to drag you with me to Hell!”

Riley knew the girl was only an image, conjured by Valek’s mind. Alais was long dead, and though her spirit remained tied to Valek’s, he could no longer do her any harm. Even so, she had no doubts that what he was about to do had indeed occurred before, so while it wasn’t really happening now, it would still be a _very real_ memory.

Valek flicked his wrist, and a blade materialized between his long fingers. “Alais never liked knives; I killed her mummy with one, so they’re a bit of a _sore_ spot for her.” He chuckled at his own revolting pun, the sound rumbling like an oncoming storm in his chest. 

_“Valek!”_

Valek shove the dagger into Alais’ mouth, forcing it down her throat. Riley squeezed her eyes shut, but her eyelids provided no cover; she could see straight through them. She attempted to avert her eyes, but it seemed that no matter where she looked, Valek was there, choking the poor little Ice Elf with the blade. Tears bubbled in Riley’s eyes, streaming down her face as she screamed and pleaded and cried.

_“VALEK, STOP! STOP! STOOOOP!”_

The elf’s own muffled, gurgling screams echoed all around them; Riley turned her face to the side, promptly vomiting all over herself. By this point, her real body would have fainted, which would have been an absolute blessing.

But respite was not something Riley had ever known.

Valek forced the thrashing girl to choke down one whole knife after the other, all while Riley screeched and sobbed her eyes out. All she could do to keep herself sane was remind herself that if she gave in—let Valek win, let this memory of Alais be saved—Alais would never truly be free. All of Valek’s hosts remained tied to his own soul, and the only way to both free them and kill Valek was for his current host to die. Valek would never allow for it, not even if she tried to lay down in front of a truck, since he sensed her every next move, so the only thing she could do was wait, and pray her life was a short one.

Blood splattered in all directions, since this realm appeared to have no concept of walls, floors, or ceilings. It ran in thick rivers like spilled paint, flecks splashing all over Riley's bare skin.

_“Riley?”_

Riley hiccupped, tasting bile. The voice pierced this realm from far away, like light streaming in between clouds.

_“RILEY!”_

Riley shot up in her bed, chest heaving hard. Hot sweat drenched her from head to toe, leaving her bra, underwear, and night clothes sticky and clinging to her skin. Fresh tears and mucus peppered her face, so she had apparently been crying in real time. She trembled almost violently, gooseflesh decorating her bare arms and legs.

Thor sat at the edge of her bed, large hand on her shoulder and the other resting on one of her clammy hands. His gorgeous baby blues darted back and forth as they surveyed her face, deep concern rooted in their cobalt depths.

Riley startled in surprise, recoiling away from him. She wasn’t used to people waking her from her night terrors—namely because she had almost always lived alone. It had been many years since she’d had anyone around to rouse her from the nightmares, so she had grown accustomed to having to ride them out on her own.

“Wh…wh…” Riley all but whimpered, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, which did absolutely nothing to keep the sweat from her eyes. “Th-th-Thor?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Thor looked almost more terrified than she felt, completely at a loss as to what to do. “You were yelling in your sleep; one of my personal servants alerted me to it. I’m sorry for intruding,” he added, but Riley lunged forward, throwing her arms around his neck with a wet sob.

“It’s all right,” he soothed, though he looked immensely uncomfortable with the whole situation. “You’re okay now. It was just a nightmare.”

 _Yes, just a nightmare…_ Riley sniffled against his neck, ashamed that she was currently smearing all manner of bodily fluids all over his shirt, but too shaken to compose herself. Normally she would just head for the bathroom, splash her face with water, and recite as much as she could of one of her favorite books, _The Thorn Birds._

“’Th-there is a legend,’” she stammered softly, slowly drawing herself away from Thor, “’about a b-bird which sings just once in its life, more s-sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From’, uh… ‘from the moment it leaves the n-nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine.’ And, um… ‘And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain....Or so says the legend.’”

That was about as far into the book Riley could ever remember, but it was also the exact amount she needed in order to calm her down. A friend had suggested the exercise in her youth, and she’d used it ever since.

She was well aware of Thor now staring pointedly at her, probably thinking she had gone absolutely batshit crazy. But the trick worked, and that was all that mattered. Riley rubbed an eye with a fist, sighing deeply.

“I’m sorry, Thor. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Riley must have been a sight, with her dripping nose and red eyes, rumpled clothing and wild hair. Thor, of course, looked just the right amount of disheveled to where he still looked attractive.

“You needn’t apologize.” Thor patted her roughly on the shoulder again, seeming unsure of himself. “Are you…all right now?”

Riley nodded. In her disoriented state of mind, Valek had quieted, at least for now. His presence would be back with a vengeance soon enough, but the shock of her night terrors usually kicked him out of her mind for a while after awaking. “Did I say anything in my sleep?”

“Mostly, uh…screaming,” Thor admitted, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “The only thing I could make out was Alais…Is that someone you knew?”

Riley’s shoulders wilted. “Y…yes. Someone I knew.” She was frankly relieved that she hadn’t yelled out Valek’s name in her slumber, since that would make for a pretty awkward conversation. “It’s not a big deal, really.”

How _embarrassing_. Try as she may to play it off like nothing, Thor had already witnessed her bawling into his shoulder only minutes ago, so his concern wasn’t likely to go away. Still, Thor rose from her bedside, content that she would be okay, at least for the time being.

“Well…the night is still long. I will see you in the morning, Riley.”

“Goodnight, Thor.”

But sleep never returned. Riley wouldn’t allow for it, not again, not tonight. She’d had enough mental torture for one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riley's nightmares come once every other sleep or so. She gets night terrors where Valek brutally tortures her mentally and physically, and uses memories of past hosts to torment her. He shows her a memory of him torturing a child host, an Ice Elf, from long ago. She wakes up screaming, to find that Thor has woken her up. She recites the first paragraph of "The Thorn Birds," one of her favorite books, as a coping mechanism to calm her down. Thor leaves, and she remains awake in bed, too afraid to fall asleep again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this chapter, so I might go back and make some changes...Also, I'm a slut for comments and feedback, so please don't be shy about leaving me your thoughts so far!

“There is something I must show you.”

Though her visits were few and far between—and not technically permitted by her husband—Frigga made time once in a while to cast an image of herself in Loki’s cell. Now, after a little under a month of having known Riley Harrow personally, Frigga sought out her son. A memory weighed heavily on her mind, and she would find no better moment than now to share its burden with Loki. Originally, she intended to keep it under lock and key, to carry its bulk on her own, but now that Loki knew of his Jotun heritage, it seemed it was time she tell him the truth.

Not even a truth, really—that made it sound as though she had lied to him. It was more along the lines of withheld information, which only now needed to be shared.

Loki stood at the farthest corner of his cell, hands clasped together behind his back, gaze listless. At his mother’s words, he risked a glance over his shoulder. For virtually every visit she made, Loki ensured that he remained aloof with the woman. Childish as it was, he fully intended to show Queen Frigga nothing more than detachment and ire. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but her visits were the highlight of his now-limited and dismal life. It was the one thing that kept him from the complete and utter brink of insanity, but he refused to acknowledge this, regarding Frigga with indifference each time she made an appearance in his room.

However, her words had caught his attention (his time here was limited to books, so he chomped at the bit for any scrap of entertainment he could sink his teeth into), and he feigned only mild interest with a nonchalant, “Oh?” in reply.

“Come here.”

Too starved for a diversion from the solitude was he, Loki complied without a fight, boots gently thudding on the floor as he made his way to her. Frigga reached out, and through long strands of magic, she touched him. The pads of Frigga’s fingertips brushed his temples, and though he did not feel her actual touch on his skin, he felt the warm tinge of her magic seep into his mind. He immediately recognized the spell, a mind-dwelling magic which allowed an exchange of memories, but he had looked upon Frigga’s memories enough times to know that it was not one of her own; it appeared to have been gifted to her from someone else’s brain, which made the memory transferable to his own eyes.

He watched as though through clean glass, pulled from his own body to _swim_ in the golden spell. It overwhelmed his senses, allowing him to observe the unfolding scene as a spectator, but with the source’s emotions entangled with his own. Whatever the memory’s host felt, he felt.

A lovely brunette sat cross-legged at a tea table with his mother, laughing uproariously at an unheard joke. Pale blue eyes glinted with amusement as the freckled woman extended a hand for a steaming cup of tea, and through the memory, Loki felt her emotions swell forth—glee, comfort, love, and every other manner of sickly-sweet happiness a person could embody at any one given time.

On the young woman’s knee she bounced a little blonde boy, who continually attempted to grab at her long, dark curls with meaty fists.

“Thor’s getting so big!” the woman chirped, gently moving those fat baby hands away each time they reached for her hair. “I swear, by this time tomorrow, he’ll have a beard as long as Odin’s.”

Frigga—slightly younger, though not by much—laughed lightheartedly in reply, lips taking dainty sips from her own teacup. “Joking or not, my dear Odin took at least _six years_ to grow his beard to that length. I keep pleading with him to trim it down, but he seems Hel-bent on having the visage of a grandfather before our boy’s even an adolescent!”

Laughter rang out again, and the aura of the memory brought a pool of warmth to Loki’s belly. The memory spoke of happier times, of young life and carelessness.

“Is _that_ why you never let me grow a beard?”

A dark-haired man had entered the dapatical tea room, his contagious and lopsided smile bringing a sense of pure adoration and love to the brunette woman’s heart, the sensation spreading in kind to Loki—something perhaps similar to what he once felt toward his family, but much, much stronger. It almost made him recoil in revulsion, had anyone seen him in the midst of such a silly emotion, but in the solitude of this memory, he granted himself a pass.

“Åke!” Loki could have sworn a candle wick was set aflame, from the manner in which the brunette brightened. “How was your chess game with Odin?”

“Ahh, the old man’s got me beat at every turn,” Åke chuckled, dark eyes taking in every inch of the woman’s appearance, as though he had not seen her in many moons. “Whatcha got there, Amelia? Found a friend?”

Baby Thor babbled in reply, managed to finally grasp a handful of Amelia’s hair. He gave it a _hard_ yank downward, and she winced.

“That’s…yet to be determined,” she laughed, trying and failing to wrangle Thor’s fist away from her hair, her eyes wet at the corners from the strain on her scalp. “Are _all_ gods this strong as toddlers?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Åke managed to free his fiancée’s hair, guiding the toddler’s fingers open. He swept Thor into his long arms, swinging the giggling boy back and forth in the air. “He went easy on you. When I was just a babe, I broke my mum’s nose. Never did look the same.”

“Is _that_ what occurred?” Frigga shook her head, grinning from ear to ear in a way Loki seldom saw her display these days. “I always wondered about that, when we were children. I was simply too polite to ask.”

“Who’s a _big strong warrior_?” Åke cooed, tossing Thor into the air and catching him, all while the toddler shrieked with glee. “Who’s my little man?”

“Is he big or is he little?” Amelia asked mildly, rolling those beautiful blues. “You can’t seem to make up your mind, _‘Okay.’”_ A nickname, Loki assumed, from the similarity of sounds from ‘okay’ to ‘Åke.’

“All right, all right, you two.” Frigga stood now, coming to take Thor from Åke’s hands (Thor put up a fight, of course, _refusing_ to be taken away from the funny man). “It’s nap time. I’ll be back in just a moment. Help yourself to some tea, Åke!”

The Queen swept a fussing and wailing Thor from the room, leaving Amelia and Åke alone at the tea table. Åke circled around the table, bent down, drew Amelia’s face toward him with a few fingers on her chin, and planted a kiss on her cheekbone. “Seriously, though, Ames. About that beard…”

Amelia play-punched him, pulling him down again by the shirt cuff for a second kiss, this time on the lips. “If I have to have hair tickle my face each time I kiss you,” she replied, tapping him on the nose, “then my kisses are going to be _a lot_ less frequent. Your choice, Okay.”

Åke growled playfully against her throat, nudging his nose into her hair. “Mmm. But think of how it would feel down—”

His flirtations died out as a child’s high-pitched cry reached them. Amelia made to rise from her seat, but Åke rested a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place. “You stay here, darling. I’ll get him this time.”

“But I _like_ Mr. Blue,” Amelia pouted.

“I hope you’re this eager for diaper-changes when _we’re_ expecting.” Åke pecked her on the cheek again, then headed for the stairwell behind them, which Loki knew, through Amelia’s memories, led to baby Loki’s own nursery. “Love you, freckles.”

“And I love you, Okay…most ardently,” she replied with an impish grin, as though the reference to _Pride and Prejudice_ was some big secret. She loved making him think that her Midgardian pop culture quotes and phrases were worthy of secrecy, as though they were an inside joke known only among certain mortals.

As her fiancée vanished around the staircase, Amelia ran her index finger along the rim of her teacup, smiling a smile she never would have guessed anyone (particularly a Mischief god) would ever see.

Amelia loved Loki—present-day Loki heard it himself as her thoughts pressed through, though he could hardly belive it. She had accidentally seen his Frost Giant form before, much to Frigga and Odin’s dismay, when Åke’s magic inadvertently broke the spell on Loki’s appearance. She had merely blinked, allowed Loki’s tiny hand to clutch onto her pinky finger, and remarked, “Well! What a _pretty_ color! How did you know it was my favorite, Mr. Blue?” And from there, it was never spoken of again. Amelia respected their family. She knew she was an outsider, and she knew it was not her place to ask. She loved Frigga, but there would always be a social order, and so long as no one overtly disrespected her, she was fine with toeing the line.

Åke, however, had initially been much more appalled about Loki’s heritage. “He’s a _Jotun_ , Amelia!” he had exclaimed, shortly after witnessing the unraveling of Odin’s magic. “They’re a vile, primitive race.”

_“And?”_

“Amelia, you just don’t understand. They’re our _enemies!_ We can’t just take one of those blue _ice-spitters_ in as one of our own.” Loki, witnessing the memory within the memory, cringed at the term. “Ice-Spitter” was a cruel slur used against the Frost Giant race.

Amelia had merely regarded her fiancée with distaste, lips pressed together in a way Riley now did when upset. “Do you know how long Midgard took to break down racial barriers, and how much farther it still has to go? We are a far-cry from where we need to be, but we are _learning_ ,” she had snarled at him, prodding a finger to his chest. “ _Shame on you_ , Åke. The man I fell in love with defended me for my race, and forced Asgard to accept me as I am. But now he won’t allow a _child_ of another race into his heart? Black, white, blue—colors shouldn’t matter. And if that’s the attitude you have, then you may go find yourself a _different_ hand in marriage.”

That had pretty much ended that, and Åke actually came to find that he, too, liked the little blue baby, much in the way he had liked the Midgardian woman who had opened his eyes to so many things. He had at least a thousand years of experience over Amelia, but she’d proven time and time again to be wise beyond her years.

Funny, how the magic worked, the way that memory invaded this one as it crossed Amelia’s mind. She smiled as she recalled it, pleased with herself for getting through to her fiancée. She wouldn’t marry a racist man, that much was certain.

Åke’s furious yell from the nursery startled her, followed by the sharp sound of sword against sword and a crying Loki. Amelia sprung right to her feet, making haste for the stairwell. When it came to Loki and her fiancée, action came before thought.

“Åke?” she hollered, feet pounding on the stairs, her heart leaping into her throat. She rounded the corner into Loki’s nursery, and stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway.

Baby Loki lay crying shrilly in his crib, tears pouring down his fat cheeks. Across the room, Åke raged and cursed as he engaged in a swordfight with several other men. There were seven in total, outnumbering a normal warrior, but Åke held his own, matching the attacks move for move. There was a reason the god of Family and Companionship had climbed the warrior ranks.

One of the men caught sight of Amelia standing in the doorway, and his eyes darted to Loki, then back, then to Loki again. Without second thought, Amelia lunged just as the man did, reaching the crib only seconds before him, swooping down to seize Loki in her arms.

The man reached for her, and Amelia ran. She could hear Åke calling after her, then grunting with effort as he returned to the fight, but she never looked back. Sense was not present in her mind, and present-day Loki felt her panic, her confusion, and her need to get the baby to safety. The chase sent her fleeing back down a second set of stairs, then up another, then up a third flight, her heart racing as fast as her feet. Occasionally fingers enclosed on thin air, just a hair away from the back of her throat.

There were no servants around in this wing of the palace to call out to, so Amelia had to rely on her own legs for escape. She had little to no combat experience, and knew that she wouldn’t stand a chance against Asgardians—it was flight or fight, and she took flight like a bird in an alligator’s jaws.

Unfortunately, she was not particularly well-versed in the structure of the palace, and in her panic, she ended up cornering herself on a balcony ledge.

Heart now painfully putting up a fit in her heaving chest, the mortal woman whipped around to face two of the seven men. Based on their attire and physical appearance, she gauged they were Asgardian men— _warriors_ , even, according to their armor. Traitors to the throne.

“We’re not looking to hurt you, woman,” one of them soothed, putting his hands up in an “I-come-in-peace” gesture. “We just want the child.”

 _“Why?”_ Amelia snapped back, pressing the bawling Loki closer to her chest. Present-Loki became nearly light-headed from the onslaught of numerous thoughts crashing through her brain. “What for?”

“He’s a Jotun,” the second man elaborated, cautiously inching closer to her. Amelia backed away each time he moved, until she stood on the very edge of the balcony’s ledge. “A Frost Giant. An enemy of Asgard! He doesn’t belong here. And neither do you—but we’re willing to play nice, so long as you hand the little ice-spitter over.”

“You’re going to kill him.” It was a statement, not a question. “He’s just a _baby!”_

“A baby who will grow up to become a _traitor_ to our kingdom,” the first man snarled, losing patience with her. The irony of the man’s own treachery was not lost on Amelia. “Or even _sit_ upon our throne.” He spit. “That abomination _cannot_ be allowed to live.”

“You’re crazy!” Amelia’s breath hitched momentarily as she attempted to step back again, only to put her foot on empty air. She staggered, heart hammering, attempting to soothe the now-shrieking Loki with hushed words and whispers. “If you want him, you’ll have to kill _me_ first.”

“Fine by me, _human.”_

The second man had managed to grow close enough to slash her leg with his sword, and she cried out in pain as blood wept from the wound. Several more slashes, several more yelps. Both legs and one arm now dribbled blood all over her clothing. Still, she took the blows as they came, taking care to keep Loki clasped firmly against her, protected by her own body.

“Give it up, woman. I promise, this next blow will be lethal.”

Weighing her limited options, Amelia looked from the men to the space behind her. The huge drop from the ledge to the ground gave cause for intense nausea on simply looking at it, and on the grounds below, a body of slow-moving water snaked its way around the edge of the palace. Present-day Loki felt her conflict, her rising terror and inner turmoil as she struggled to make a decision.

The first man made to attack her again, and Amelia made up her mind, allowing her body to tip backwards. The pit of her stomach dropped, and for a moment, time stood still. Then, she fell.

The world shifted and lurched. Wind rushed up around her, her curls whipping like lashes against her face as she descended the side of the palace, eyes fluttering shut. Her arms wrapped firmly around Loki, ensuring that she remained face-up with him lying on her chest.

Body against river was more painful than it looked, and felt similar to crashing back-first into concrete.

Water flooded Amelia’s vision now, and the moment she felt its impact, she held Loki aloft, tossing him as gently as possible, praying that she’d be able to throw him onto dry land. The river surged around her, roaring in her ears as she became submerged, plummeting into its depths.

_SMACK!_

Amelia’s head knocked against the firm ground at the bottom of the palace’s river. Blood blossomed in the water, and for what seemed like only seconds, the watery world above melted into the dark.

In the next instant, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a rather muddled version of Åke’s face. She blinked back water droplets, attempted to sit up, and proceeded to heave her lunch onto the grass at her side. She drew in several shaky, painful breaths, and her lungs screaming as though lit on fire. Present-Loki felt the urgent need for air, felt the pain _gnawing_ at the back of her bleeding head.

“H-hey, _shh,_ don’t try to move.” Åke cradled her head in his lap, stroking her face with one hand whilst he peeled wet hair away from her eyes with the other. Crimson streaked his hands and his face. “Oh, Norns, A-Ames—why the _Hel_ did you do that? _Why?_ I thought you had—”

 _“Loki,”_ Amelia moaned softly, lifting her head before the weight of it forced it to fall again. Blood and spittle leaked from the corner of her mouth. “Is he…is…”

“He’s safe, th-thanks to you.” Åke bent to urgently kiss her forehead in multiple places, and she flinched as his tears rained upon her skin. “But you—you _shouldn’t_ have done that, Amelia! You shouldn’t have done that.” He trembled against her, the frailty of mortal life having never been more apparent to him than now. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I love you most ardently,” Amelia croaked, and the black swallowed her (and Present-Loki) up again.

But the latter was shortly thereafter pierced with soft light, as Healers doted on the mortal woman now, scurrying around to check her vitals and clean her wounds. Amelia leisurely made to sit upright, and though her head pounded as though she’d been clobbered with a hammer, she was able to remain in that position.

“You saved him.”

Amelia craned her neck to the left as much as she dared, and the familiar face of her beloved friend materialized there. “Frigga,” she moaned, beaming now in spite of the ache in her head. “Hi.”

“You saved my Loki,” Frigga repeated, eyes swimming with tears, her hand clasped around Amelia’s. In all the time the mortal had known her, she’d never seen the indomitable Frigga cry before, and the action actually startled her. Queen Frigga was a strong woman, known for compassion but also composure, severity in leadership and fortitude in crisis. To see real tears now brim in her eyes? It was almost too much to handle. “You saved my _son.”_

“I did,” Amelia answered, giving Frigga’s hand an affectionate squeeze, “what any mother would do.”

Loki uttered a sharp gasp as the memory _jerked_ away from his mind, the intense swell of emotion petering away, leaving only the frigidity of his cell in its wake. He stumbled back, reeling from the sudden contrast, knees giving out as he collapsed on the edge of the bed, head clutched in his hands.

So many of his own emotions swept in now, overwhelming him as he re-played the scene again and again in his head, over and over. This woman—this _mortal_ woman—had gone out of her way to protect not only a child that was not her own, but the child of an _enemy_ to her fiancée’s home. And it was not out of a pursuit for praise, or recognition, or borne of some other selfish thought. Through her mind, he felt her legitimate _love_ for him, for Frigga, for their family…

And honestly, he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

On top of the hurricane of sensations he’d just endured, there was also the fact that this woman had been _Riley’s_ mother. This mortal, who’d risked her own life to save a _monster’s_ offspring, had given birth to the young woman now residing on Asgard.

It was all… _a bit_ much to take in.

“The warriors were given the axe,” Frigga murmured, and Loki lifted his head from his hands, having forgotten her presence in light of his own bemusement, “for high treason against the king and queen. From there, Odin ensured stronger secrecy among the royals, ensuring that no one else would know of your true heritage.”

His mother’s image stood at his bedside now, and had they truly been in the same room, she’d have placed a consoling hand upon his shoulder.

 _“Why,”_ Loki hissed between clenched teeth, the emerald in his eyes swallowed by the spilled ink of dilating pupils, “did you show me this?” Something wet pressed for escape at the corners of his eyes, but he drew blood from his bottom lip in an effort to contain it.

“I won’t always be around. That much is just a fact of life,” Frigga elucidated, linking her hands together at her middle. “I swore I would repay Amelia for her selflessness, and I intend to start now. But if I am not around—be it for one reason or another—Riley Harrow will need protection and guidance. I see in her the obstinacy of her mother, and of that I am _afraid_. Because if she’s anything like Amelia, she will look only to herself for help. But whether she likes it or not, her circumstances dictate that she will need a helping hand. Perhaps even just a friend.”

Those cobalt eyes found Loki, who snorted with disgust (but a mother knows her son, and Frigga saw no real disdain in him).

“Do you believe you are not long for this world?” Loki demanded hotly, returning to his feet. “Do you anticipate an early demise? And why do you not seek out Thor for this?” He huffed, coming to stand directly in front of Frigga. “And even so, I am in chains. What exactly do you expect me to do, keep that _wretched_ half-blood in here with me?” A scoff followed.

“I cannot see into the future—I am not a witch. However, I know that life is unpredictable. It took my dearest friends before their time, and it will not play favorites. I need to take the necessary precautions to ensure their debt is repaid.” She peered up at her son, and it amazed her that this towering man could have ever been considered a “runt” among his own kind. “You and Thor are different. There is something in you, Loki, something deeply emotional—whether you like it or not—that sets you apart. Once you find it in yourself, I have full confidence in your abilities.”

Frigga extended a hand toward him, only to pull back, dolefully aware that she would never again be able to touch her son. “Nothing is set in stone, Loki. I trust that you know that.”

With those words, Frigga’s image flickered away in a golden shimmer, leaving Loki alone with but his thoughts to keep him company.


End file.
